


Fighting The Darkness

by Keira_63



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dumbledore's portrait has decided to be at least a bit helpful, F/M, canon books 1-6, some spoilers for Deathly Hallows, warnings for some violence & language & abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 06:53:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 92,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keira_63/pseuds/Keira_63
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The supposed traitor still serving two masters - the unexpected spy in Voldemort’s camp - the pureblood with a dangerous obsession - the Dark Lord plotting in the darkness. Hermione finds herself surrounded by all four in a struggle to bring the light back to a darkened world and finds something unexpected as well - love. Hermione/Severus</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Severus' Lament

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Harry Potter, it is the property of the brilliant J.K Rowling. This story is the product of her marvellous characters and world and my imagination.
> 
> This story is canon with books 1 - 6 and begins two days after Harry’s seventeenth birthday in the summer holiday after sixth year. The following has happened between the end of the sixth book and the beginning of this story;  
> Sirius returned from the veil a week after Dumbledore’s death, though no one is quite sure how and Remus and Tonks have got married.  
> There is a huge manhunt looking for Snape and Malfoy, but they have had no luck yet.  
> We’ve had the whole seven Harry’s and guards to get Harry away from Privet Drive, with Moody dying.  
> Dumbledore’s portrait has remained asleep the whole time, except for five minutes when he spoke to Harry and instructed him to let the rest of the Order in on the horcrux hunt, which has been done. The reasons for this will be explained in the story.  
> While I’ve used the Horcrux storyline, there will be nothing on the Deathly Hallows and the trio were never given anything in Dumbledore’s will, though they managed to procure the sword of Gryffindor just after sixth year ended in order to destroy Horcruxes.  
> You may recognise bits of Deathly Hallows in this story, but it is AU to the book. Snape is good, for the reasons shown at the end of Deathly Hallows book (aka Lily). The prologue is Severus’ musings and the actual story begins on the morning of Bill’s wedding to Fleur.

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“Youth is a malady of which one becomes cured a little every day. He’s turned his life around. He used to be depressed and miserable. Now he’s miserable and depressed.”  
Unknown

He’d known it all along really, known he was destined to be a fugitive of some kind. He hadn’t been sure of the when or how or why, but he’d known it would happen … and it fucking had, in the worst way possible. Albus Dumbledore was probably the only true friend he had left, then again he’d only really had two, Albus and Lily, but she’d been gone seventeen years and now so was Albus, by Severus’ own hand. 

He took another swig of firewhiskey, wincing as the burn hit his throat, yet relishing it as well. He was still having trouble adjusting to the fact that Albus was dead, he’d had little time to process it before now. He said the two words and then got Draco the hell out of there. The Dark Lord had been ecstatic at Dumbledore’s death, though Severus had to use all his increased influence to help prevent Draco’s untimely death. The little brat had barely given him a thank you, Lucius and Narcissa had shot him grateful looks, yet another thing they owed him for.

This was the first moments peace Severus had gotten since that awful night on the tower at Hogwarts. First there had been explanations for the Dark Lord, then those bloody revels where he was supposed to celebrate the death of his mentor - he’d been severely drunk for that, he didn’t think he would have handled it otherwise. Finally there had been a celebratory bout of muggle torture, which he had tried to stay out of, only killing the poor muggles to put them out of their misery and refusing to join in Macnair and Rodolphus’ rape of the women. He’d cited their ‘dirty blood’ as the reason, though it was merely the fact that he didn’t want to inflict pain. He’d been forced to be more involved in these revels before, but as guest of honour he was allowed some reprieve if he wished it.

The Dark Lord had let him go then, with what could almost be termed a smile, but really leant towards evil smirk, on his snakelike face. Severus had never seen anything uglier. He’d immediately gone to his quarters in the Malfoy mansion, the Dark Lord’s current headquarters, and rushed to his ensuite bathroom. He was sick almost immediately, the memory of the murder he had committed hours ago burning in his mind along with the innocent muggles who had been killed to celebrate. Once he’d finished retching, he’d cleaned himself up and gone to his armchair by the fire to drink and brood. While the Malfoys had a perfectly comfortable home, he wished he could go back to Spinner’s End, dour and grey though it may be at least it was far away from the Dark Lord’s noxious presence. Unfortunately, he was now a wanted man and couldn’t go back to his known residence, the Malfoy Manor was hidden and therefore safe.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Severus remembered the last conversation he ever had with Dumbledore, excluding the moment on the tower. His mentor had tried to reassure him that he was doing the right thing and that he had forgiven Severus for the past. “I will not condemn you for what you did yesterday, if you do it right today,” (1) Dumbledore had said, “it is the same for you Severus, you made mistakes but you atone for them every day by helping the Order. Always remember that.” Severus had nodded outwardly but inwardly he wasn’t so sure - his mistakes had been huge, they had cost Lily (and Potter too he supposed) their lives and Severus, for one, would never forgive himself for that, no matter how long he lived.

Despite the view most people had of him, Severus Snape was not heartless Death Eater scum. He regretted every innocent life he took, despite what Dumbledore said about the ‘greater good’. However, unlike others, Severus couldn’t afford to grieve over each murder he committed, there was not room in his façade to do so and if he showed any hint of remorse around the Dark Lord then the chances were that he would be dead by the very next day. So he stored each innocent death he had played a part in within the far confines of his mind, in a special place where they could be forgotten and only brought out when he was feeling particularly depressed and firewhiskey wasn’t enough to make him feel like the bastard he knew he could be.

There were positives to his exile from Hogwarts that he tried to think of; he was no longer expected to bring information on the Order’s movements and that saved him having to take what little information Dumbledore deemed safe for him to give and try to make it seem worthwhile to the Dark Lord, who wasn’t easily impressed. There was also the added bonus of not having to teach the little monsters referred to as students any longer. Severus loved potions, but he had found few students, even when he himself was one, who were as dedicated to it as he. Lily Evans had been one such person and, though he was loathe to admit it, so was Hermione Granger, who had excelled at everything of course. He didn’t know what Minerva would think when the Death Eaters managed to capture her precious Gryffindor princess, but he only hoped he’d manage to get her out of the war alive - Granger was far too intelligent to die so young.

Severus supposed he was lucky that his status as a severely wanted fugitive meant he had to remain inside the Dark Lord’s headquarters indefinitely, for it was that reason which had caused the Dark Lord to give him responsibility for Granger. He could only hope the girl used her intelligence rather than her Gryffindor rashness and actually deigned to listen to his explanation. It would do no good if she just kept attempting to attack him or escape, as Potter or Weasley would undoubtedly seek to do. Luckily, Granger had always been the more rational of the trio of Gryffindors and no doubt her curiosity would overcome her desire for revenge and she would hear him out - if worse came to worse then he would have to bring out Albus’ portrait. 

Speaking of the portrait, Severus supposed he better go over the plan one last time with Dumbledore, just to be sure of everything. He went to the west wall of his quarters and performed the complex sequence of wand movements to open the secret compartment hidden there. He rustled around, before pulling out a Dumbledore’s portrait, enclosed within a wooden frame.  
“Albus, wake up damnit, it’s almost time and we need to talk.”  
The painted Dumbledore stirred quietly and began to yawn, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “lemon drops,” as he shook himself awake.  
“Severus, is it time already, I could have sworn I’d only been sleeping a few hours?”  
Severus rolled his eyes, “no old man, it’s been two days and I’ll have you know I’ve had to put a silencing spell on my safe compartment because you’ve been snoring so damn loudly that it’s not only dangerous if someone comes in, but impossible to sleep through.”

Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes twinkling merrily, “I do apologise Severus, you must forgive an old wizard’s sleeping habits. Now, how long will it be before Tom sends out his followers to procure Miss Granger?”  
Severus sighed, “they will be heading out any minute, Lucius is just giving them a last minute briefing.”  
Dumbledore nodded, “I suppose we can just be thankful that Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange are sitting this one out, especially considering Sirius’ return, it would likely have led to casualties we don’t want. On that note, when will you tell her about Rabastan?”  
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, “I don’t even want to think about trying to explain that, she’s good friends with Longbottom and it’ll be tough going trying to explain that the man’s innocent. Still, it’ll probably be good for her to have someone to talk to that isn’t a painting or me.”

Dumbledore shook his painted head, “you underestimate yourself my boy, I’m sure Miss Granger will be as content as possible when one is a prisoner of Voldemort, you must remember she is very intelligent and I’m sure she rarely gets the intellectual conversation she craves. Mr Potter and Mr Weasley are clever in their own way, but they do not share the deep love of learning and reading that both Miss Granger and yourself do.”  
Severus rolled his eyes, “it doesn’t matter either way, she will have to spend time with me and whether she is miserable will be entirely dependant on her own actions. She is intelligent and capable, I am sure we will get on without too many arguments Albus. After all, I do not put much store in the abilities of Potter and Weasley to find the Horcruxes without Granger‘s help, so it will probably end up being entirely reliant on us to sort it all out.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that right now Severus, the first thing you need to do is ensure that Miss Granger trusts both Rabastan and yourself, then you can begin work on the Horcrux problem.”  
Severus nodded shortly, “this is all hard enough as it is without bringing Granger into the mix, which is really my own fault. The Dark Lord asked me to bring information on Potter and his close friends and of course, Granger’s file was full of proof of her intelligence. Maybe I should have played it down, then perhaps he wouldn’t have ordered her to be brought in to help me.”  
Dumbledore shook his head, “don’t blame yourself Severus, this way she is under your watch and you can keep an eye on her. If this hadn’t have happened then Tom may have seen no use for her except as someone to be killed in order to weaken Harry.”

“Which would have probably ruined the entire plan and led to Potter getting himself killed in some stupid attempt to avenge her, yes I know Albus. I will endeavour to keep Miss Granger as safe from harm as possible when she is here and shall insure that Rabastan attempts to do the same.”  
Dumbledore’s portrait gave a nod and a brief flash of what seemed to be regret flashed across his painted face, though it disappeared in an instant. Severus snorted internally, Albus better bloody well regret what he’d put Severus through - spying and having to kill the one man he’d always admired, even during his days as a genuine death eater. Even if he succeeded in getting the Horcruxes to Potter to destroy, he had no illusions about surviving the war and if he did, he doubted he’d be welcomed back, even if they knew Dumbledore had made him promise to kill him. Well, he just didn’t give a fuck anymore, they could say and do whatever they wanted. If he died then he guessed most people would be happy. If, by some miracle, he survived, then he’d find some small cottage in a remote corner of Britain, or perhaps Ireland, and start his own potions business from home so he never had to see any of them again - he was sure that arrangement would suit them all.

With that depressing thought, he shut Albus’ portrait back in the secret niche, silencing his complaints by reminding the portrait that any death eater could enter his rooms to ask something about a mission. His paranoia turned out to be well founded, for not two minutes after he’d put the portrait away with the usual silencing and secrecy charms, Lucius Malfoy knocked on his door and barged in before he’d had time to answer, his face in its normal aristocratic frown.  
“We’re leaving to get the mudblood now,” said Lucius, “so our Lord says you should be in the central chamber in about an hour.”  
Severus rolled his eyes, “I was privy to the contents of the plan as well Lucius, I know what I’m supposed to be doing.”  
The Malfoy Patriarch’s eyes narrowed, “I still don’t know why you got to be in charge of the mudblood, I’d be perfectly capable of breaking the little slut.”  
Severus’ eyes flashed, “that is why you don’t have the handling of her Lucius, the Dark Lord doesn’t want her broken, just helping our cause until her use has run out. Anyway, after the mission you bungled in the Department of Mysteries, against children no less, not to mention your stint in Azkaban and Draco’s failure, you aren’t really in our Lord’s good books.”  
Lucius moved to say something - probably derogatory - but Severus cut him off, “watch what you say Lucius, I am higher than you at the moment and if I choose then I could refuse to save your son the next time.”  
He raised his eyebrows in a silent challenge Lucius did not take, the blonde deciding instead to stalk out of the room in high dudgeon.  
Severus poured himself a glass of whiskey and raised it in toast to a girl far away, “I hope you’re ready Miss Granger, things are about to change and I only pray you’re strong enough to cope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) - Quote comes from Sheldon Maye


	2. The Light Begins To Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Weasley-Delacour wedding is in full flow and Hermione is contemplating the actions of Severus Snape, when Death Eaters arrive ... and they seem to have a particular focus on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, it is the property of the brilliant J.K Rowling. This story is the product of her marvellous characters and world and my imagination.
> 
> To see the banner for this, or any of my other stories, go to http://www.flickr.com/photos/keirahousemd/sets/

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“The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.”  
Richard David Bach

“Mione, where are my shoes?”  
“They’re under the bed in your room where you left them Gin.”  
“Hermione, what happened to my tie?”  
“It’s round your neck Ronald, are you really that oblivious … wait, don’t answer that.”  
“Mione, can you please help me with my hair?”  
“Harry, you know that nothing anyone, even me, does - muggle or magic - will ever make your bloody hair lie flat.”  
“Hermione, do you happen to know what I did with the vow book, I could have sworn it was on the table.”  
“Honestly Kingsley, you call yourself an Auror. Never leave anything on the table with the twins round. Here, I kept hold of it for you.”  
“Hermione dear, do you know what happened to Aunt Muriel’s tiara, Fleur is getting frantic?”  
“It’s in its case on the dresser in your room Mrs Weasley, we moved it once the twins started experimenting in the sitting room.”  
“Hermy darling, you don’t happen to know where the Dungbombs George and I had in our room are do you?”  
“Firstly Fred, my name is Hermione, or Mione if you wish, not Hermy, which you know annoys the hell out of me.”  
“Yes, fine Mione, now where are the Dungbombs … and the rest of our stuff for that matter?”  
“You expect me to tell you that Fred, I moved it all to a secure, hidden location to prevent you ruining the wedding with inevitable pranks.”  
“Aww Mione, you’re no fun.”  
“Well suck it up and deal with it Fred, I’m not in the mood right now.”

Hermione splashed her face with some cold water from the Burrow’s kitchen sink in an attempt to wake herself up, giving a tired smile when she saw Remus come over to her, “you seem a bit stressed Hermione, something wrong?”  
The petite brunette sighed, “it seems like everyone has questions for me this morning - I’m starting to curse whoever began the tradition of big weddings. Then with all the stuff that’s been going on the past few weeks; Sirius coming back, getting Harry and Moody dying, telling the Order about Horcruxes and trying to cope with … with his betrayal of the Order and Dumbledore‘s murder.”  
Neither of them needed to say who ‘he’ was, his name became unmentionable almost immediately after Dumbledore was killed. It seemed a little strange to Hermione that no one would say Snape’s name, considering they almost all said Voldemort’s. She guessed that it was because Voldemort had never professed to be on the light side, only to turn against them. Also, Voldemort hadn’t killed Dumbledore. 

Hermione was still unsure what to think about Snape. In front of everyone else, she acted just as they did - as if he was a traitorous scumbag - and in reality, that was what the evidence pointed to. But still, he’d saved Harry’s life in first year, constantly helped the Order by passing information. If he’d wanted to kill Dumbledore then he’d had thousands of opportunities before hand when he could have done it without anyone realising he was there. But from what Harry said, Draco Malfoy should have done it and Snape had taken over when it was clear the ferret wasn’t going to go through with it. There was more to the whole thing if you asked Hermione, she wanted more information and since Harry had a tendency to be a little bias and judgemental when it came to Snape and Slytherins in general, Hermione knew Snape and Dumbledore were probably the only ones to know the whole story. Since the former was on the run and the latter dead, she didn’t know if she’d ever discover the true story.

She came back to reality as Remus spoke, “yes, we’ve all been a little busy recently, but now is a small period of time to relax, Bill is getting married and Sirius is back with us. We might as well enjoy the little light moments in life, they seem to be getting scarcer right now.”  
Hermione gave Remus a cheeky grin, “speaking of lighter moments in life, how are things going with you and Tonks?”  
Remus blushed slightly as Hermione giggled, “we’re good … very good.”  
Hermione pouted playfully, “is that all I’m going to get out of you Remus, maybe I should ask Tonks.”  
She paused for a moment, “no, probably not a good idea. I reckon I’d get more details than I ever wanted to know.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” came a masculine voice behind her.  
She swivelled round, “Sirius,” smiling as she jumped into his arms for a hug.  
“My cousin is a serious firecracker with no shame. She has about the same amount of tact as she has balance - which isn’t an awful lot.”  
He gave them a grin, which quickly turned into a wince as said cousin, who had toned her hair down to a raven black with silver streaks in for the wedding, whacked him around the head.  
“Sirius Black, you better shut up right now or so help me I will ensure the Black line ends with you.” Hermione and Remus laughed, Tonks narrowed her eyes and Sirius’ eyes widened as he backed away from his irate cousin. 

Hermione sighed as Mrs Weasley’s voice floated in from the kitchen, “Hermione dear, it’s time to get ready for the wedding. The girls are all up in me and Arthur’s room because it’s the biggest, bring Tonks as well. Sirius, Remus, Harry and Ron are in Fred and George’s old room if you want to go up.”  
Hermione turned to Tonks, “you better be coming up too, I may be more amenable to Fleur than Ginny, but I can’t be up there with that lot. Mrs Weasley and Mrs Delacour will just fuss over Fleur and Ginny will be gossiping with Gabrielle, I need someone to talk to.”  
Tonks smiled, “don’t worry Mione, I’ll come up with you to save you from the boredom that is wedding details and the latest fashions, I need to get into my dress anyway.”  
She turned and kissed Remus, “take Sirius and go find Harry and Ron before this one,” she jerked her thumb at Sirius, “manages to get himself into more trouble.”  
She grabbed Hermione’s arm and pulled her up the stairs to Mr and Mrs Weasley’s room, leaving behind a smirking Remus and a scowling Sirius.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione was bored, so were Tonks and Ginny for that matter. They were all in their dresses - red for Hermione, silvery lilac for Tonks and a gold bridesmaid dress for Ginny - with their hair done up and shoes on, waiting for Fleur to finish getting ready. The part-veela seemed to find fault with every bit of her outfit, rather like she had with the Yule Ball decorations in Hermione’s fourth year, insisting on her tiara being adjusted, her make-up touched up. Hermione, Ginny and Tonks were bloody sick of it, but they knew Mrs Weasley wouldn’t let them go down until everyone was ready.

She didn’t like being bored for a lot of reasons - it made her feel useless and lazy. It also had the nasty habit of leading her to thinking of her parents. She knew that altering their memories and sending them to Australia had been the safest option for them, but that didn’t make her miss them any less. The only comfort she got was that they were safe and they couldn’t miss her because they didn’t remember her at the moment. Of course, she missed them, but she tried not to think about that when possible, it just made her sad and she had enough on her plate with the war and trying to keep Harry alive to be worrying about the parents she had grown apart from and sent far away for their own good.

She shook herself out of those thoughts quickly, all they would lead to was sadness and this was a wedding - she needed to be happy. She threw herself into an enthusiastic conversation with Tonks about all the wedding preparations that had been going on. Tonks had missed out on a lot of them since she’d often been sent on small missions or to the shops. Hermione suspected it was a ploy to get her out of the way, Tonks was well meaning, funny, smart and an excellent Auror, but put her in a crowded room with food and decorations and things went downhill from there. Hermione was just describing Mrs Weasley’s almost breakdown when the flowers, which had been spelled so they couldn’t change colour, had been bright pink instead of cream, when Ginny nudged her and she saw Fleur was finally ready.

Hermione couldn’t deny it - Fleur was a complete vision - she knew Bill wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off her and Ron would probably be goggling too so it was lucky he didn’t have a girlfriend to get jealous about it. Mrs Weasley and Madame Delacour were looking on with pride, tears sparkling in their eyes as Fleur gave a delicate twirl to show off her dress to the girls. Hermione gave the blonde a genuine compliment, having warmed to her since Dumbledore’s death, and the bride-to-be responded with a dazzling smile. Hermione sighed, she doubted she’d ever look so beautiful.

Mrs Weasley chivvied all but Fleur and her two bridesmaids; Gabrielle and Ginny, out of the room and downstairs to help with the finishing touches of the wedding and to get everyone seated. They’d wanted a bigger wedding, but with the atmosphere is the wizarding world how it was at the moment they didn’t want to risk information getting out, especially after what had happened when getting Harry from the Dursley’s house. Therefore, only Order members, the Weasley family and Fleur’s parents and sister were present. Bill and Fleur had decided that they would have a fully family wedding after the war was over. Hermione was glad in a way, it made the wedding much safer, especially since it was at the Burrow, which was under protection, and they wouldn’t have to worry about disguising Harry.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t know why mum’s so insistent on this usher business,” Fred said as he escorted Hermione to her seat, “who cares where anyone’s sitting, it isn’t like there’s any relatives who care about that sort of stuff here - and thank Merlin for that, I don’t think I could stand to see Aunt Muriel, she’s been completely unbearable since she leant her tiara to Fleur and then found out she wasn’t invited to the wedding, never mind the fact that practically no other family were either.”  
Hermione laughed, she’d heard many stories about Great Aunt Muriel - none of them good - and was very relieved when she heard the woman would not be present at the wedding. “You should let your mum have the ushers and wedding details Fred, she was so disappointed that the families couldn’t come that we shouldn’t upset her in things that can actually happen.”

Fred shrugged, “I suppose so, but that’s you Mione, always thinking about everybody else.”  
He gave her a smile, “I better go make sure Ronniekins is in the right seat, last I saw he was trying to get closer to the front and we can’t have him drooling over the bride, especially not when the groom’s our own brother.” Hermione shook her head in exasperation, she hoped Ron got over his fancy for Fleur soon or he wouldn’t be on very good terms with his eldest brother. 

She was relaxing a little in her chair, watching as the final touches were put to the decorations and everyone made their way to their seats, when her reverie was broken by a crash and a curse. She swerved round and smiled as she saw Tonks sprawled on the floor, two chairs knocked over next to her, and Remus helping her up with an amused smirk. T  
he clumsy metamorphmagus finally made it into her seat next to Hermione, “wotcher Mione,” she said with a grin, “only fell over once on the way down - must be a new record for me.”  
Hermione laughed, “very true Tonks, but I’ve still decided that I’m charming you a pair of anti-trip boots for your birthday.”  
Tonks smiled abashedly, “Mione, I’ve had so many pairs of those things and they can never overcome my clumsiness.”  
Hermione just gave a smile, “yes, well they haven’t been reinforced by both Dumbledore and myself have they?”  
Tonks laughed and they settled into their seats to watch as Sirius was chastised by an irate Mrs Weasley for turning the wedding arch neon pink.

“Molly’s a bit testy isn’t she,” Sirius said with a lazy grin, as he dropped into the chair on Hermione’s other side.  
She rolled her eyes and smacked him on the arm, “honestly Sirius, this is the first of her children’s weddings and she wants it to be perfect. She’s already had to sacrifice a lot in the name of secrecy and safety so don’t you go annoying her even more.”  
Sirius winced and pouted playfully, but Hermione just ignored him and began talking to Tonks about the wedding.  
Remus patted his best friend’s shoulder, “Padfoot, I do find it hilarious how much Mione can control you - one might think you were afraid of a teenage witch.”  
Sirius just shuddered, “of course I’m bloody afraid of her, she’s the smartest witch of her generation and incredibly powerful. Besides, you remember what happened the last time I seriously pissed her off,” he said, referring to the week before, when Sirius’ pranks on Hermione had caused her to hex him so badly he couldn’t walk straight for six days.

Everything quietened as a wedding march began to play, the sound emitting from a charmed organ and echoing around the pure white marquee as the remaining guests slipped into their seats. Hermione grinned as Hagrid found his own special seat - five times the size of the other delicate golden chairs and probably reinforced with a number of charms to prevent it collapsing. She saw Ron sit next to Harry, who was gazing wistfully at the marquee entrance where Ginny would soon enter as bridesmaid, smiling as she thought how happy the youngest Weasley made her best friend. Everyone was soon seated, with Molly, Arthur and Mrs Delacour seated at the front, both women holding scraps of lace that would undoubtedly be needed once the tears started. It took little to set Molly off these days and Hermione could only be thankful that it would be tears of happiness today, especially since she knew how upset Molly had been the past few days about Percy’s non-attendance.

The chatter ended and the only sound came from the organ, as everyone turned slightly to the entrance, where Gabrielle Delacour was walking into the marquee. She held a small silk cushion with the rings - they had forgone a pageboy due to the lack of any boy the right sort of age and so the duty had fallen to Gabrielle as the younger bridesmaid. Ginny followed Gabrielle, the golden bridesmaid dress she wore complimenting her hair beautifully, giving Hermione a grin as she passed her, followed by a wink for Harry, who blushed slightly as Ron gave a playful scowl at his little sister’s interactions with his best friend.

Then Fleur came in, gliding down the aisle on the arm of her jovial father. She looked radiant, with a brilliant smile and a glow that seemed to radiate onto everyone and beautify them. Hermione couldn’t help but be even more envious of Fleur than she normally was, wondering just what it was like to be so utterly beautiful. But she removed those unkind thoughts from her mind almost immediately, Fleur had tried to be nice, despite her occasional bouts of tenacity, and today was her wedding day - Hermione wouldn’t begrudge her that happiness. Anyway, anyone who could make Bill, standing next to his best man Charlie, beam like that - so it was impossible to tell he’d met Fenrir Greyback - was good in Hermione’s books. All the Weasleys (except perhaps Percy) deserved happiness and she knew Fleur would make Bill very happy.

Fleur reached the alter just as Tonks leaned over to whisper to Hermione about how jealous she was of Fleur - “after all, I’d never be able to walk down an aisle looking so bloody graceful, I’d fall flat on my face after two steps.” Hermione had to bite her lip and cover her mouth to stop herself laughing - it wouldn’t do to cause a noise when everyone was so silent. Kingsley stepped forward, as a high ranking Ministry official he had the power to perform wizarding marriage ceremonies, a great help considering that the secrecy of the whole affair meant they couldn’t get in a proper registrar.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of this wizard to this witch …”  
Hermione couldn’t help but tune the words out, it seemed pretty similar to a muggle church service, apart from the whole witch and wizard bit, along with the real magic of the whole ceremony. Everyone was so happy and, as predicted, both the bride and groom’s mothers had begun sobbing into their scraps of lace as elegantly as they could manage with tears streaming down their faces. Arthur and Mr Delacour, who had sat down next to his wife after giving Fleur away, looked a both women with a little trepidation and Hermione sighed, so few men knew how to deal with a crying woman, even if the tears were over happy things.

“Do you, William Arthur Weasley, take this witch to be your lawfully wedded wife.”  
“I do.”  
“And do you, Fleur Isabelle Delacour, take this wizard to be your lawfully wedded husband.”  
“I do.”  
“By the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Everyone stood, clapping, cheering, and in the case of Fred and George - catcalling - as Bill swept his new wife into a passionate kiss as the magic of the binding exploded into what looked like miniature fireworks around the couple. From her limited knowledge of wizard marriage ceremonies, the rings the couple wore would now have been magically engraved with a number of runes signifying love, fertility, protection and luck. She grinned as she clapped, she thought she might prefer wizarding ceremonies to muggle ones, the magic was awe inspiring and the runes on the rings a beautiful touch. 

As Bill and Fleur made their way up the aisle, the guests began throwing rice - Hermione had explained a few muggle wedding traditions and someone, she couldn’t quite remember who, had wished to eject some humour into the ceremony and they had decided to try this tradition. Next to her, Sirius chuckled as Fred, George and Ginny’s uncanny aim meant that both Bill and Fleur got a handful of rice in the face (Ginny would later claim full credit for the rice that hit Fleur) and Hermione smiled as she saw how happy everyone was, a rarity these days. As everyone was caught up in the buoyant mood, Hermione felt herself swept up into several hugs from Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Harry and Ron, before Bill and Fleur reached the entrance of the magical marquee, at which point the adults pulled out their wands and began the quick work of smoothly transforming the ceremony set up to one fit for a wedding reception.

The chairs were all levitated and moved to the edges of the room, surrounding tables Charlie quickly conjured, while the middle of the marquee was transformed into a dance floor, complete with floating disco ball. The alter disappeared to be replaced by half a dozen buffet tables groaning under the weight of Mrs Weasley’s delicious food and a beautiful three tier wedding cake that made Hermione’s mouth water. One last flick of a wand and the organ split into a six piece orchestra, which began playing a gentle tune.

Bill pulled Fleur into the centre for their first dance as a couple and Hermione was struck by how lovely the image was - Bill with his scarred, yet handsome face and Fleur in all her ethereal glory, swaying softly to the music and giving the picture of a perfect couple in love. All the guests applauded as they finished their first dance as man and wife and soon more people had moved to the dance floor. Hermione watched as Harry spun Ginny round, Arthur held out his hand to Molly and Remus waltzed with Tonks (rather slowly and wincing as she stood on his feet).  
She was just giggling behind her hand as Remus had to use his werewolf reactions to grab Tonks as she tripped when Sirius appeared next to her, “laughing at poor Moony are you Hermione?” he asked with a grin.

She shrugged, “it’s funny, though I do feel sorry for Remus, Tonks isn’t the most graceful dance partner.”  
Sirius laughed, “I think that’s putting it lightly Mione, but that’s beside the point, I came to ask whether you would care to take a spin round the dance floor and show these amateurs how its really done?”  
A sparkle appeared in Hermione’s eyes, she had learnt ballroom dancing between the ages of six and eleven and had continued to practice regularly even after she’d gone to Hogwarts. This had been made even easier after the Room of Requirement was discovered in their fifth year because she could sneak away to practice and the room would give her music and an animated mannequin for a partner to practice with. Sirius had also had dancing lessons when he was younger, mostly because his parents deemed it ‘proper’ for their two sons to learn as they should have attended many pureblood balls. Though Sirius had never put his lessons to much use, getting out of the balls as much as possible, he could still remember it all perfectly.

Hermione nodded, took Sirius’ offered hand and he led her onto the dance floor, where she waved her wand at the orchestra and it began playing the Viennese Waltz. As the music started, Sirius placed one hand round her waist and grasped her hand with the other, while she placed her free hand on his shoulder. Then they began to rotate, moving round the dance floor at a fairly fast pace, their moves flawless and Hermione’s dress swirling round her ankles. They barely noticed as the floor cleared, everyone too entranced by the brilliant moves displayed by the playboy marauder and the Gryffindor Princess - very few people knew Hermione could dance like that. When the dance was finished, the pair found themselves being applauded and Hermione blushed pink as she realised how much attention had been on her. 

She broke apart from Sirius and kissed him on the cheek to thank him for the dance, before attempting to find an appropriately dark corner to hide in. However, she was soon dragged away by Fred to dance to a rather lively tune, before finding herself twirled to each of the Weasley brothers in turn. George complimented her dancing, Ron commented on how she “finally looked like a bloody girl” and Charlie spent a few minutes telling her of his recent adventures with the dragons in Romania. Finally, she found herself spun into Bill’s arms as Fleur danced with Charlie.  
She smiled up at him as they swayed in time to the music, “so … how does it feel to be a married man Bill?” she asked.  
He grinned at her, “it feels fantastic Mione, Fleur is just so amazing, so perfect for me. I guess I know how Remus feels about Tonks - to have someone who loves you so much despite the scars.”  
Hermione gave him a gentle smile, “everyone loves you Bill, they love Remus too, no one cares about any werewolf gene because it doesn’t change who you are.”

Bill gave her an affectionate smile, “thanks Hermione, that means a lot, but anyway, I’ve been wondering - you and Sirius, you seem awfully close, especially after the dance we just witnessed.”  
Hermione laughed, “don’t even go there Bill, Sirius is one of my best friends, but so are Harry, Ron, Remus and Kingsley - he might be a little more flirtatious but I have no romantic feelings for him. Even if I did, I doubt I’d ever reveal them for fear of giving your poor mother a heart attack,” she said with a little smile.  
He nodded - Molly was fond of Sirius, but she didn’t approve of a lot of the elements of his lifestyle and would probably hex him if he showed any interest in Hermione that wasn’t purely platonic. 

They finished their dance soon after and Bill went back to Fleur, while Hermione sat down and massaged her sore feet for a while. She was unused to wearing heels, not being overly girly, and she swore to herself that she would never wear them again unless the situation truly demanded it. However, despite her sore feet, after she had eaten a little she was back on the dance floor with Harry with plenty of cushioning charms on her shoes. Her best friend’s dancing had improved a fair bit since the Yule Ball, mostly thanks to help from Ginny, so Hermione didn’t have to suffer getting her poor feet trodden on as Parvati had in their fourth year. Harry’s mood was fairly jubilant, thanks mostly to the excitement of the wedding and Sirius’ return from the veil. It made a nice change from the surly moodiness he had adopted during the short time between Dumbledore’s death and Sirius’ return. 

Hermione steered clear of any conversation involving their deceased headmaster or Professor Snape. She knew Harry was still incredibly angry at their ex-Potions Master for what he had done, though at least he’d stopped throwing things every time he was mentioned. Hermione still believed there was something a little fishy about the circumstances surrounding Snape’s murder of Dumbledore, there were just so many things that didn’t make sense. However, Hermione wasn’t stupid enough to mention this to most of the Order, who tended to act with their hearts rather than their heads a lot of the time - Harry and Ron especially. Remus, Kingsley and Minerva McGonagall were the only people Hermione reckoned might believe anything good about Snape and even they were pretty unwilling to discuss it - Dumbledore’s death had affected everyone. Therefore, Hermione steered the conversation onto safe topics; what Harry had thought of the wedding, how sweet Remus and Tonks were and what sort of mischief Sirius was likely planning with Fred and George.

The song finished and Hermione was about to sit down again, but was blocked as Kingsley held his hand out and asked her to dance. She accepted with a smile and they moved to a thankfully slow song - cushioning charms or not, Hermione’s feet could only take so many fast songs. They chatted about inconsequential details for the first minute or two, before Hermione felt her attention drift a little as she remembered good times at Grimmauld Place. She was brought out of her reverie by a hand waving in front of her face and found herself looking at her dance partner, “sorry Kings, I was just stuck in memories.”  
He gave her a quizzical look, “anything good?”  
She shrugged, “in a way, I was thinking of staying in Grimmauld Place the summer before fifth year - it was bad because Voldemort was truly back, but good because we were all together for a while. I was remembering that night before the Weasleys or Harry got there, when I came down to the kitchen in the middle of the night, expecting it to be empty.”  
Kingsley laughed, “and you found Sirius, Remus and I there drinking all of the Black’s finest vintage and remembering the good old days when we were young and at Hogwarts.”

Hermione sighed wistfully, “such good times. I tried to apologise but Remus made me sit down, Sirius teasingly offered me some whiskey and then you made me some of your amazing hot chocolate because you refused to let Sirius corrupt me by getting me drunk. Then of course Remus, our resident chocoholic, had to have some hot chocolate too and we ended up sitting up till four in the morning talking about the marauder era at Hogwarts and your work as an Auror.”  
Kingsley pulled her close into a hug, “those were the good days Mione, before people really started dying. I was actually rather flattered by your questions, many young people are interested in becoming aurors, but not many have the sense to ask the important questions - they just want to know what our pay checks are like and how much holiday time they’ll get.” 

Hermione smiled, “well since when have I ever been normal. Turned out to be a pretty useful conversation, I’ve been thinking about becoming an Auror once this is all over, presuming I survive it all.”  
Kingsley gave a frown at the casual reference to her possible death, “really, I’d have thought that after everything you, Harry and Ron have been through that you’d just want a rest.”  
His dance partner shook her head, “I think that’s really what the other two want. Harry wants so desperately to be normal and I know Ron would love to play Quidditch or work in Fred and George’s shop - something less violent than war. Me, I want to make a difference, so maybe I’ll be an Auror for a few years, to ensure there’s no Death Eaters left, then I’ll do something really worthwhile, like trying to tackle corruption and inequality at the Ministry.”  
Kingsley gave an approving nod, “good goals, it’s heartening to see you thinking of what you’ll do after the war, means you have some vision. I do think you’re right about Harry though, perhaps he might try professional Quidditch, that’s probably what James would have done if it wasn’t for the war, he was an excellent chaser.”

She danced with Kingsley for two more songs before finally being released to take a breather at one of the tables. She sat down next to Remus and Tonks, who were having an animated conversation about the funniest dancing at the wedding (so far Charlie’s chicken dance was winning). She smiled at them both and joined in the discussion for a while, until Tonks got up to browbeat Kingsley into dancing with her.  
Hermione then turned to Remus with a spark in her eye, “care to dance Remus, I promise I won’t step on your toes.”  
He laughed, “are you sure Mione, I doubt it can compare with the show you and Sirius gave us.”  
Hermione grinned, “yes, well its nice to surprise people and Sirius is an excellent dancer. Be that as it may, I’ve danced with practically everyone else and now I want to dance with my favourite ex-Professor.”

“Well how can I say no to that,” Remus replied and he stuck out a hand, leading her onto the dance floor. The band was playing Celestina Warbeck now and from the look on her face, Fleur wasn’t very impressed by Mrs Weasley’s favourite singer. Hermione spent a few minutes teasing a blushing Remus about Tonks, but didn’t bother to ask for details on the wedding. That was the sort of thing the woman remembered and she’d already got the low-down from Tonks a few days before.  
They spun around the dance floor for a few minutes before Hermione spoke, “Remus, I’m worried about Harry. He’s just so obsessed with making Snape pay for killing Dumbledore that I’m afraid he’ll lose sight of the most important thing - getting rid of Voldemort. Then I can’t help but think something bad is going to happen, what Harry saw, it seems as if there’s something else, something we’re missing. I don’t think we know everything and it isn’t helping my nerves.”

Remus was silent for a few minutes, deep in thought, and Hermione was worried that she might have said too much. The pain of Dumbledore’s death and Snape’s betrayal was still rather fresh and she knew some (probably Moody, if he was alive) might interpret her words as belief in Snape’s innocence. She was perfectly aware that Snape had cast Avada Kedavra and killed Dumbledore, she just wasn’t so sure of the motivation behind it.  
She was relieved when Remus spoke, “I agree that Harry might be a bit too focused on Severus and I doubt Sirius is helping, for this is just another reason for him to hate the man. As for something we’re missing, I’m sure there are many things, after all I doubt Dumbledore told any one person everything he knows and suspects. I’m afraid that for now we’ll just have to go on what we know and hope it doesn’t lead to disaster.”

Hermione nodded, glad that at least one other person wasn’t taking everything they knew at face value. From what she knew of Dumbledore, there was sure to be something that wasn’t as it seemed. She didn’t ask any more questions on the Dumbledore or Snape vein, not wanting to depress Remus on what should be a happy day - Merlin knows they didn’t get enough of those any more. Instead they just spoke of some of the books they’d recently read and laughed at all the pranks Fred, George and Sirius had been pulling lately.  
They were just finishing their second dance together when the ground suddenly began to shake and Hermione had to grab onto Remus to stop herself falling. She looked to her old Professor with a mixture of confusion and worry, “Remus, what’s going on?”

The look on his face frightened her, she rarely saw Remus so worried. In fact, she could remember only two other times when she had seen the expression now marring his features cross his face, when Sirius had fallen through the veil and when he’d found out about Dumbledore’s death.  
“It means someone, or a group of people, are trying to get through the wards and by the sound of it they may well succeed. I have no bloody idea how they found us but you need to apparate to Grimmauld Place and wait for others to get there too so we can find somewhere safe - just remember the security questions and don’t let your guard down.”  
The words had tumbled out at twice the normal speed Remus spoke at and with an undertone of emergency she rarely heard. She nodded and squeezed his shoulder gently in the only form of goodbye they had time for. Concentrating on her Grimmauld Place and repeating the mantra of ‘destination, determination and deliberation’ before spinning on the spot … and not going anywhere.

She was momentarily worried, but thought that it must just be the situation affecting her determination and so she tried again … and again. When she failed to move for the third time, and noted around her that no one else was going anywhere, she swore deeply, “anti-apparition barriers,” said Remus, now looking positively terrified.  
Despite this, anyone with a wand pulled it out and all they could do was wait for the wards to fall and the intruders to enter. Their only choice was to attempt to fight their way out and escape that way, though Hermione knew that it was a dangerous thing to try. However, it was their only option and Hermione noticed the grim determination set on each Order member’s face.  
The shaking suddenly ceased and there was complete silence. Hermione felt hope well up - perhaps the wards were holding and the intruders, likely Death Eaters, would be unable to enter. Her hopes were dashed a moment later when there was an almighty bang and black robed, masked figures began popping into the marquee. 

Hermione only had time to register that the anti-apparition barriers must not affect those with dark marks before the spell fire started. She moved so she was back to back with Remus and they began shooting off stunning spells - the quickest way to incapacitate an opponent - towards the Death Eaters. She was sure they were after Harry and she’d be damned if she was going to let them get anywhere near her best friend.  
She could hear everyone screaming spells, but was relieved to see that the majority appeared to be stunners. That confused her a little, why would Death Eaters only use stunning spells? She spun quickly and ducked, a jet of red flying over her head, before the answer came to her - it was a specific mission, they weren’t there to attack the Order, they were there to capture somebody.  
Hermione turned again to Harry, who was being shielded by Sirius, but there didn’t seem to be too much spell fire towards him and that meant he might not be the target. It was only when Remus shouted for her to duck again that she realised an inordinate amount of spells seemed to be heading her way. She paused, her breath caught in her throat - oh Merlin, she was the target.

She grabbed Remus and pulled him behind one of the roman style pillars holding the marquee up, “Remus, the spells, most of them seem aimed in my direction. You don’t think -”  
Remus nodded gravely, “I’d noticed that they seem to be going for you rather than Harry, though I have no idea why. For now, we’re just going to have to try and keep you safe until help comes.”  
Hermione sighed, “what help Remus? Everyone who could possibly help us is right here fighting for their lives. Face it, the only chance we have is incapacitating all these bloody Death Eaters.”  
The pained look on Remus’ face told her all she needed to know and she turned back to the Death Eaters attacking her, a determined look on her face as she twirled, ducked and shot spells.

By now, most of the room had noticed the fact that the Death Eaters appeared to be going for Hermione and tried to help her and Remus, who were slowly getting more overwhelmed with attacks. While Sirius and Charlie stayed with Harry and Ron, Kingsley and Tonks attempted to fight their way over to where Hermione and Remus were, but their progress was slow and Hermione was unsure if they would get there in time to prevent a capture or serious injury. The spells appeared to be getting a little more dangerous as the Death Eaters became more desperate and Hermione cried out when someone’s Sectumsempra curse grazed Remus’ arm, causing blood to gush from the wound. Hermione didn’t know what to do, the curse had been invented by Snape and she knew there was a counter-curse, but only Harry had ever heard it.  
She looked desperately over to her best friend, who had noticed the commotion and who shouted something to Kingsley, who finally battled his way over to Hermione and Remus, who was clutching his arm in pain. Kingsley brandished his wand repeated “Vulnera Sanentur,” three times, as Hermione watched in amazement as the blood loss eased up, before the wound began to knit together and it healed until there was just a faint scar. Hermione knew Remus would need Dittany in order to remove the scarring and she only hoped he’d have a chance to get some.

She suddenly wondered how they’d managed to avoid any spells as Remus was healed and Hermione looked up to see Bill, Fleur, Tonks, Minerva and Arthur had been holding the Death Eaters back. When they saw Remus back in action they moved back to their original positions. As she fought, Hermione tried to work out who the Death Eaters were, but their masks prevented any positive identification. The only one she was sure about was Lucius Malfoy - she would know his long white-blonde hair anywhere and the rush of hatred she felt for the man who had such prejudice towards her caused her to send a volley of spells towards the wizard, smirking when he was knocked off his feet. She didn’t notice as one of the other Death Eaters muttered a spell, but she felt it as the entire marquee shook and an explosion threw them all off their feet.

Hermione was thrown back and had the misfortune to hit one of the pillars, which happened to be made of marble and hurt like hell. She could hear shouts and screams around her and saw blurry figures stand up again and begin firing spells once more. She grasped her pounding head, still not quite willing to open her eyes to be seared by the light. She could hear footsteps coming towards her, more shouts, before the footfalls stopped when the figure appeared to be right next to her. She had yet to open her eyes and knew she was slipping in and out of consciousness.  
She hoped to Merlin that the figure next to her was on the light side, but felt they would have identified themselves if they were. Still, there was always room for hope. She felt strong arms pick her up, still unaware of what side they were on, until she was unable to recognise the voice as he spoke, “we have the girl - let’s go.” In that moment she knew it was the Death Eaters who had her, but she had no time to think on it, for as she felt the beginnings of side-along apparition, she sank into blissful unconsciousness.


	3. Lioness In The Snake's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione wakes up in captivity ...

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“Intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings.”  
Salvador Dali

Hermione’s head spun as she woke up, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the darkness around her. She supposed the lack of light was probably a good thing as it would have irritated her already pounding headache and she wanted to have her wits about her if she was going to come face to face with Voldemort anytime soon. From what she could tell, she was in some sort of cell, with a cold stone floor and drab, grey stone walls.  
The little light that filtered through from the corridor a few metres away showed the outline of the cell to be no more than six feet by six feet - “definitely not the Ritz by any means,” she thought wryly, “but then again, I am supposed to be a prisoner.”  
Combing the room as best as she could with the little light there was available, Hermione discovered nothing that could be of any use to her, not even a loose stone. Examining the bars she concluded that not only were they solid and rather close together, but they seemed to be radiating magic and she would guess they were enforced with spells.  
Without her wand, Hermione had no chance of escape unless a miracle came walking by - unlikely in Voldemort’s headquarters (which was where she assumed she was). She cursed herself for not having the time to read up a little more on wandless magic, she only knew the basic theory and no practical application.

Sighing deeply and hoping she was the only one stuck in Voldemort’s prison, Hermione lowered herself to the floor, facing the barred door so she could see anyone who passed by. She drummed her fingers gently on the floor, reflecting that she was taking the whole ‘kidnapped by Voldemort’s Death Eaters and locked up in a dingy cell’ rather calmly.  
Maybe it was the fact that she’d seen Harry and Ron pulled away by Sirius and Charlie and knew they, at least, were safe. It would have been a disaster if Voldemort got his hands on Harry.  
What Hermione was most confused about was the fact that the intruders didn’t even seem to go for Harry - or anyone else for that matter. Their target seemed to be her and once they had her they had left. That didn’t seem Voldemort’s style at all and so she knew he must want her for a particular reason, decreasing the likelihood of her being killed immediately.  
Of course, that didn’t rule out a slow and painful death, or an extended period of torture, but Hermione prided herself on trying to be an optimist - it was necessary to try and keep Harry from sinking into a depression - and she would try not to think about the less than pleasant scenarios floating round her head. However, since she was in Voldemort’s stronghold, she doubted that whatever he had planned for her would be particularly pleasant.  
The one thing she hoped desperately to avoid was a meeting with Snape - she refused to give him the respect of ‘Professor’ that she had always pressed the boys to use - she didn’t fancy his snide, insulting comments, especially not now she knew just how dangerous he really was.  
She might have been a little unsure about whether he’d truly betrayed them back at the wedding, but he was the only one with knowledge of the usual wards the Order used, as well as the fact that Bill and Fleur would be getting married early in the summer, so the information leading to her capture must have come from him.

Hermione froze, thoughts of Snape temporarily driven from her head, as she saw a shadow grow larger and heard footsteps - someone was coming towards the cell.  
She was relieved, in a way, when Draco Malfoy stopped in front of the cell, face pale and drawn, but impassive. Malfoy might be an arrogant bully, but he was nowhere near as scary as his father, Bellatrix, Voldemort or Snape. He tilted his head to the side as if examining her and she waited for the stinging insults to come. She was shocked when he remained silent, continuing to study her with interest rather than his usual sneering disgust.  
“I couldn’t do it you know,” he said quietly and her head shot up, shocked he was talking to her in a civil tone.  
“I couldn’t kill Dumbledore,” he told her. “When it came down to it, I realised I wasn’t a killer. I’m stuck in this place now, following a fucking half-blood, but it feels a bit better knowing I don’t have murder on my hands. I don’t know how Snape did it, but he’s an enigma and I’m not likely to find out any of his motives any time soon.”  
Malfoy seemed to be talking more to himself now, but Hermione listened with interest - he didn’t seem so enthralled by Voldemort as the Order seemed to presume. Maybe there was hope for him yet.  
“I should be thanking him on bended knee really, after what he did - saving me from the Dark Lord, who probably would have killed me. But Malfoys bow to no one and I don’t care what my father thinks of the Dark Lord, I will never truly lower myself to him.”  
That was interesting, Hermione thought, Snape had saved Malfoy, who didn’t seem to have any real loyalty to Voldemort. It would be useful to see how loyal he was to his father, but Hermione doubted she’d discover anything locked up in a cell and while Malfoy junior wasn’t cursing her, she wasn’t about to start a conversation on that sort of topic with him. 

He looked up at her, mid-sentence, realising how quiet she was, “you aren’t going to say anything Granger, you don’t normally shut up.”  
She gave him a wry grin, “I was shocked into silence by the fact that you aren’t being your usual insulting self - it’s nice to know that you’re a human being Malfoy.”  
To her surprise Malfoy gave a small chuckle, “despite what you may think Granger, I never really hated you, I was just told I had to because you’re a mud - muggleborn. Apart from your slightly know-it-all tendencies I have no real problems with you, unlike Potter and Weasley you never really went out of your way to start a fight.”  
He paused for a moment, “except that time you punched me in third year, but that actually impressed me quite a bit, not many people are brave enough to do that.”  
Hermione smiled, “thanks Malfoy, I think that’s the first compliment I’ve ever received from you. I don’t suppose you have any idea why I’m still alive?” she asked, hoping her casual tone fooled him into thinking she wasn’t scared.  
He shook his head, “no idea, but I can tell you who I think will be ‘looking after’ you while you’re here. My father’s been in a mood for the past week and from what I gather he wanted you, but after our family’s failure he’s not in particularly high regard right now. He’s even more annoyed because the person who’s been put in charge of you is Severus.”  
Hermione swore, damnit she hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near that traitorous snake and now she would be stuck with him. She didn’t want to think what he might do to her.  
Malfoy shook his head, “I know you’re angry Granger, probably scared too considering he killed Dumbledore, but in a way you’re pretty lucky. My father would have been brutal, so would most of the other top Death Eaters, especially Bellatrix, Dolohov and Rodolphus. While Severus is scary, he isn’t likely to torture you for the fun of it, he doesn’t see the point.”  
Hermione snorted, “forgive me if I don’t feel safe at the thought of being watched by the man who murdered Dumbledore,” she said with sarcasm.  
However, seeing the stricken look on Malfoy’s face she felt guilty, “sorry, it’s just, I’m a little worried right now as I’m sure you can imagine.”  
Malfoy managed to send her a wry smile, “well I guess being kidnapped by the Dark Lord would probably have that effect on you. I’d like to say that you’d be ok, but both of us know I’d be lying if I said I could guarantee that.”  
Hermione shrugged, “really, I’m just grateful you haven’t started cursing me into oblivion. I know full well that I’m in a lot of danger here, I doubt you would be able to help without placing yourself in a huge amount of trouble and I’m not willing to do that to you - especially now you’ve done the first sensible thing I’ve seen you do and realised that Voldemort - oh, it’s just a name Malfoy - Voldemort, is not as great as you first thought.”

Malfoy looked rather despondent and Hermione couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him as he spoke, “I just don’t know what to do, sometimes I wish I’d taken Dumbledore up on the offer he gave on the tower.”  
Hermione had heard the story from Harry and needed no further explanation. “It’s just, my father might be a bit of a psycho, but he’s family and I don’t want him, or my mother, punished for my failure. I don’t know whether I would have asked Dumbledore for help if Snape and the others hadn’t got there, I guess I’ll never know now. I can’t even go to your Order for help, I doubt they’d accept me after what I was responsible for - what I almost did.”  
Hermione nodded, no use trying to give false hope, she knew that very few Order members; Remus, Kingsley, perhaps Tonks and Minerva, would be very receptive of Malfoy if he turned up claiming to have denounced Voldemort.  
“What you say is true,” Hermione told him, “but for now you should shy away from as many activities as possible without seeming suspicious, then when the time comes, hopefully you will be able to do something to help the Order, to help Harry.”  
The blonde in front of her cell nodded considerately, “that seems to be an intelligent plan Granger, though I suppose I should have expected nothing less from you. Still, I am curious as to why you would even consider helping me, giving me advice, after all I have done to you and your … friends, over the years.”  
Hermione looked at him through her brown eyes - eyes that seemed to look straight into his soul - “I believe strongly in forgiveness Malfoy, if the person is truly sorry. From what I have seen of you today, you truly regret some of your actions and want to turn over a new leaf, though you are unsure how to. So I help you because you deserve a second chance, that is what Dumbledore always used to say and he was one of the finest wizards I ever had the pleasure to meet.”

Malfoy nodded thoughtfully and looked as though he was about to speak again, but a sound from the end of the darkened corridor leading to her cell silenced him and he tensed. Hermione followed suit, knowing that unless it was a rescue, which was very unlikely, whoever was down the corridor wasn’t going to be good news for her.  
She looked sharply at Malfoy, who quickly pulled himself up off the casual position he’d been sitting in opposite her cell and stood stiffly, eyes cold and mouth sneering. He mouthed a sorry as they both heard footsteps moving towards the cell and starting spouting vitriol about mudbloods and the brilliance of the Dark Lord.  
Despite her dire current circumstances, she had to admire the way Malfoy could so quickly switch from a vaguely decent human being back to the cold-hearted, prejudice boy she remembered.  
It took a minute for Hermione to recognise who he was - the Death Eater who had just walked through the entryway and stood sneering down at her. It was Rabastan Lestrange - brother to Rodolphus Lestrange and brother-in-law to Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione was officially scared, this was a wizard who had been involved in the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom and while he wasn’t said to be quite as mad as Rodolphus and Bellatrix, he was certainly a wizard to be feared.  
The wizard stared at her for a little longer with his dark eyes, before turning abruptly to Malfoy, “any particular reason you are here Draco?” he asked in what at first seemed a fairly calm voice, but which Hermione soon realised sounded rather dangerous.  
The blonde teenager shrugged, trying to give off the aura of complete calm and succeeding where many would fail in front of the intimidating wizard, “heard they’d caught the mudblood and wanted to see for myself.”

Lestrange just nodded, “well, our Lord wants the prisoner,” he cast another dirty look in Hermione’s direction, “up in the central chamber and I think Severus will be the only other one at that meeting so you’re free to go find your father now.”  
It was spoken as a suggestion, but the tone made it clear that it was an order, so Malfoy slouched off. Hermione could have sworn she heard him mutter, “why anyone would think I’d even want to go near my father when he’s in such a foul mood is beyond me,” but the lack of reaction from Rabastan made her think she must have started imagining things.  
The younger Lestrange brother turned to Hermione with distaste on his face and flicked his wand to pull her into a standing position. She ignored the temptation to tell him she was perfectly capable of standing up herself - she didn’t particularly feel up to messing with such a dangerous dark wizard when she was wandless.

Another flick of Lestrange’s wand and the door to her cell was open. He conjured a pair of handcuffs which wrapped themselves round her wrists. Then he stepped towards her, though his expression made it clear he wasn’t happy at being close to her. One of his hands gripped onto her arm and he began to lead her down the corridor. She didn’t even try to pull away, his firm grip telling her it would be a fruitless attempt. He didn’t speak as he pulled her through a maze of dingy corridors and she was thankful, sure that anything words coming from him and directed towards her wouldn’t be of a particularly pleasant variety. Eventually they reached a door made of dark oak and Hermione found herself pushed into a large, circular room with only two other occupants; Lord Voldemort and Snape. She froze for a moment, despite her Gryffindor bravery, rather afraid at being in a room with two of the wizards she was most afraid of. 

Rabastan pushed her forward and she mentally prepared herself to face up to Voldemort. She was guided into the middle of the room, so focused on watching Voldemort that she completely missed the silent exchange between Snape and Rabastan - something she would discover later on. Voldemort waved a pale hand and Rabastan bowed low before exiting the room, leaving Hermione with the two dark wizards. Voldemort stepped forward and placed a cold hand under Hermione’s chin and tilting her head up so he could look into her eyes. She looked right back at him stonily, but she smirked as his expression turned incredulous - his attempts at Legilimency had met a barrier of immeasurable strength.  
He stepped back, fury in his red eyes, “what is this! I know of only one Legilimens with the sort of power you have Miss Granger and that is Albus Dumbledore. He tutored you?”  
Hermione shook her head, smiling inwardly at the thought of shocking him even more, “I learnt myself when I discovered I had something of an affinity for it, so I’m afraid you won’t be getting any Order secrets out of me Lord Voldemort.”

Voldemort merely nodded, “you are even more powerful than I expected, you will be the perfect witch to help Severus with his research.”  
Hermione stared at him, forgetting any sort of fear in her anger, “I will do no such thing. You can’t seriously expect me to help with YOUR plans, which likely involve world domination and the like. You might as well kill me now because I refuse to help you.”  
Voldemort actually chuckled at her words, “ahh, Miss Granger, whatever gave you the impression that it would be so easy. I wish you to assist Severus in his research - looking for a route to immortality for myself, along with a foolproof way to finally be rid of that brat Potter.”  
Hermione’s eyes narrowed, “I already told you, I’m not going to -”  
Voldemort cut her off quickly, “you have the choice Miss Granger, use of the Imperious would ruin that brilliant mind of yours, which is the only reason you are here. “  
He pressed his wand to the Dark Mark on Snape’s arm and Rabastan Lestrange apparated back into the room with a body in his arms. He dropped it to the floor and Hermione gasped as she recognised the wizard lying there - Remus Lupin.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She ran towards Remus’ still body and dropped down next to him, too worried to be shocked by the fact that Voldemort had let her go to him. She was beyond relieved to feel a pulse and so turned her attention to trying to wake her friend up. She was near tears, though she’d never let any of the wizards in the room see - she’d been sure she was the only one who was captured and now she’d discovered Remus had been as well. She blamed herself, he’d been near her, trying to protect her, maybe that was why he had been taken. She was pulled from her guilt as Remus began to awake, clutching his head in pain. He grabbed onto Hermione as soon as he saw her, pulling her into a hug, but growled fiercely when he saw Voldemort, with Snape and Lestrange on either side. Voldemort spoke quietly to Snape, who swooped down and pulled Hermione to her feet, dragging her away from Remus and back to Voldemort’s side. 

Hermione tried to pull away from Snape, but his grip was strong and she soon found herself facing Voldemort again. Remus had tried to stop Snape, but Rabastan had stepped in and was now holding onto him - Hermione couldn’t help but be a little impressed, not many had the strength to keep hold of an adult werewolf, even if he was in human form.  
Voldemort spoke and Hermione could hear the glee in his tone, he knew that he had power over her through Remus, “now Miss Granger, you have two choices. If you help Severus, then I will let the werewolf go free without any harm coming to him. If you don’t help, I will lock him up till the full moon and then let him loose in one muggle town per full moon for the rest of his days, with no Wolfsbane and a lot of strengthening potion in his veins. You will be tortured for information and killed once you outlive your usefulness.”  
Hermione shuddered, she knew the dangerous things a strengthening potion could do to a werewolf and she didn’t want Remus to get hurt - Voldemort had her exactly where he wanted her because somehow he knew that she would do pretty much anything if it meant keeping her friends, who had become like family, safe.

She could see Remus wanted to protest, but he knew the damage he would cause if his strengthened werewolf form was let loose, not to mention the fact that Hermione would be tortured and eventually killed.  
She looked at Voldemort with steely eyes, “if I agree to help, without tampering or trying to escape, you will let Remus go?”  
Voldemort smirked again, knowing he had got what he wanted, “of course, Miss Granger, he will not be harmed and shall be returned safely to the place we took you both from.”  
Hermione nodded slowly, “fine, I agree on one condition - I want you to make an unbreakable vow so I know for sure that you won’t hurt Remus.”  
Voldemort looked annoyed for a moment, as if he wished he didn’t have to bother, however he conceded with a rather ungracious, “if you must.” Snape was their bonder and Hermione tried not to look petrified as she performed an unbreakable vow with Lord Voldemort - but she would not show fear, this was for Remus, to keep him safe and she would complete it.

She avoided Remus’ eyes as she made the vow, not wanting to see the guilt she knew would be shining in his amber eyes. Remus always felt immensely responsible for them all and she knew it was hard for him to deal with the fact that she was giving up her freedom to save him. She didn’t want him to feel guilty - he was practically family and she would do the same for any member of the Order. She didn’t want to help with Voldemort’s plans, but at least she would definitely save Remus - anyway, Voldemort hadn’t specified that she had to put her utmost effort into research, a mistake on his part and one she would take full advantage of - once Remus was away and safe, she would research very slowly and help only when she was forced. Then she would try and get the hell out of Voldemort’s clutches as soon as possible so she could help Harry - death eaters and obstacles be damned. Hermione Granger was a very determined young woman after all.

When the unbreakable vow had been made Hermione moved swiftly to where Remus was and engulfed him in a warm hug.  
“Tell the others that I’m ok,” she whispered, “tell Harry, Ron and everyone that I love them and make sure they all train and practice and find the objects,” she said, wisely refraining from speaking the word Horcrux out loud.  
She gave him a small smile as she saw his eyes crinkle in worry, “don’t worry about me Remus, you’ll have bigger things to be concerned about and I can take care of myself.”  
He looked ready to protest but she shook her head, hugging him again fiercely, “just remember what I said Remus, we have to finish this war and you need to help them - you must be a calming influence to stop them panicking and start getting them organised.”  
She kissed his cheek gently and stepped back, refusing to let the tears she felt welling fall down her cheeks - it would not do to show weakness in front of Voldemort or Snape.

“Rabastan, take the werewolf back to where he was taken from and refrain from harming him,” said Voldemort with an air of boredom.  
Hermione watched as Lestrange grabbed Remus roughly and Apparated out of the room, breathing a sigh of relief - Remus was safe and he would assure the rest of the Order that she was alive. She stood facing away from Voldemort and Snape for as long as possible, wasting as much time as she could. Five minutes passed as she stared blankly at the wall while the two wizards in the room discussed plans at the other end of the room. When there was suddenly silence she knew they must have finished talking and so reluctantly turned to face her captors, face stormy and body tense.  
“Well Miss Granger,” Voldemort said with a terrifying smirk, “I believe it is time to uphold your end of the bargain, Severus will take you to your new quarters.”

Hermione just continued to stare coldly at the pair, “lock me up if you wish, but I won’t be helping you any time soon.”  
Voldemort gave a scary smile, “Miss Granger, you are supposed to be intelligent - you just made an Unbreakable Vow and it would be most inconvenient if you were to die now.”  
Hermione shook her head, “Remus will have been returned by now and so if I refused then I would die and you would have no help. However, I have no intentions of being a martyr, there are still so many things I want to do in my life. I did make a Unbreakable Vow,” she told them, “I said I would assist Snape, but I never said when I would begin - perhaps in a year or two.”  
Voldemort was furious, the little chit of a girl thought she could refuse him. He whipped out his wand and pointed it at the petite girl, “Crucio.”

Hermione had never felt anything like it - the curse Dolohov had hit her with at the Department of Mysteries was nothing to this. Harry had never spoken of his experience of Crucio at the graveyard during the third task other than to say he would wish it only on his very worst enemies. Hermione could see why he’d said that - the pain was immense, it was as if thousands of white hot knives were piercing her body and she could feel her eyes moisten with tears as she tried not to cry out, not to give Voldemort that satisfaction. She was so preoccupied with the pain that she didn’t notice how her old potion master’s eyes reflected the worry for her that he felt, before he schooled his features into an appropriate mask of contempt for the girl in front of him. The curse was held for what seemed like an eternity to Hermione, but was in actual fact only a minute or two - Voldemort had practically perfected the art of Crucio and only Bellatrix came close to his proficiency with the curse. 

She looked up at the snakelike man with loathing and contempt in her eyes, but refused to speak. Voldemort looked at her for a moment with uncaring eyes before turning to the stoic Snape, “take her to your rooms and make her to as she is told - use whatever means you deem necessary,” he spoke the last words with a horrible sneer and Hermione knew it didn’t bode well for her at all. Voldemort turned and left the room silently and Hermione flinched as the door slammed shut behind the dark wizard, now she was all alone with Snape of all people.  
She remembered Malfoy’s words; “… while Severus is scary, he isn’t likely to torture you for the fun of it, he doesn’t see the point” and they gave her some semblance of hope that perhaps she would not have to face the Crucio curse a second time.  
Still, there were many methods that could be used to ‘persuade’ her to help Snape and many of them were rather unpleasant things she would rather not think on. She winced inwardly as Snape strode forward and pulled her to her feet, dragging her out of the room without speaking a word. She could only hope she survived long enough to get back to her friends one way or another.


	4. Two Beacons Of Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione learns of Severus' true allegiances, converses with Dumbledore's portrait and comes face to face with a surprisingly pleasant Rabastan Lestrange.

[](http://s772.beta.photobucket.com/user/keira_63/library/Harry%20Potter%20Fanfic%20Banners)

“Lots of times you have to pretend to join a parade in which you're not really interested in order to get where you're going.”   
Christopher Darlington Morley

Hermione struggled against Snape as he dragged her down an empty corridor, but he merely gripped her arm tighter, not saying a single word until they reached a door. He wrenched it open and practically threw her inside, following quickly and whipping out his wand to lock the door with a number of complex charms, including sound-proofing. Hermione stood as he turned around, trying not to look afraid, though inside she was petrified of what he would do to her. Damn it, she had trusted him and now he had the power to make her life completely miserable. She was therefore rather shocked when he gestured to an armchair, where she had been expecting the Crucio curse, or something worse.  
“Sit down Miss Granger, we have a lot to discuss.” She caught herself before she started gaping and silently took the offered seat, a little too surprised to do anything else.  
She didn’t say a word as Snape sat opposite her, staring intently at her for a moment before speaking, “you can relax Miss Granger, I’m not going to hurt you.”  
Seeing her fidget a little in response he sighed, “honestly Granger, where on earth is that Gryffindor courage of yours, trust me when I say things could be a whole lot worse for you right now.”

Hermione itched to snap back at him, tell him that while she appreciated not being dead, being captured and forced to work for Lord Voldemort on a plan to destroy her best friend wasn’t exactly the ideal situation either. However, she didn’t particularly want to annoy Snape, he was in charge of her after all. There was also the issue that he was her professor - well ex-Professor to be precise. Despite what he had done, Hermione could never bring herself to talk back to a Professor, murderer or not, it just wasn’t in her. Therefore, she remained silent, letting herself relax a little so she didn’t look so tense.  
Snape nodded, seemingly satisfied, “would you like something to drink, or eat Miss Granger?” She was rather hungry, but her current circumstances made her more than a little suspicious and she settled for just shaking her head silently.  
He rolled his eyes, “honestly Granger, what is the matter with you, normally you refuse to shut up and now, the one time I’d rather you speak, you’ve practically gone mute.”

“What exactly are you planning on doing with me?” she asked quietly, once she’d managed to find her voice.  
Snape looked more than a little stressed, which was a little strange considering Hermione had only ever seen him flustered back in her first year, when she’d set his robes on fire at the Quidditch match.  
“If I had my way, Miss Granger, you would not be here, but back with your little band of Gryffindor friends acting like the know-it-all you are.”  
The words surprised Hermione, Snape was one of Voldemort’s inner circle - wouldn’t he want her captured as she was now, so she could help the dark side and not be around to assist Harry.  
His lips curled into a sardonic smile as he saw her expression, “no doubt you are confused as to why I would wish for you to be free Miss Granger. It is a rather long story, but you do not have anything better to be doing at the moment so I will tell you. However, you must promise to remain silent until I have finished, the many incessant questions I’m sure you will have can wait until I have finished speaking.”

Hermione just nodded, not particularly trusting her voice at the moment. Perhaps what she’d been thinking about back at the wedding was right - was there something more to what had happened between Dumbledore and Snape on the tower?  
Snape wasted no time on idle chat, but dove straight into his story - “I am not loyal to the Dark Lord.”  
Hermione opened her mouth, forgetting all about how she was supposed to be silent in her confusion about why Snape killed Dumbledore, if he had remained loyal to the old headmaster. Before she could speak, Snape sent her the dark glare he always had on around Harry and she snapped her mouth closed immediately, listening silently.  
“To get straight to the point, Albus was already dying when I killed him,” Snape told her, ploughing on before she even had time to process his words, “I do not deny that I killed him Miss Granger, and it will forever haunt me, but in the end it saved Draco from becoming a killer and gave Albus a quick, relatively painless death.”

He looked at her with fathomless black eyes and she shivered momentarily, it was like he was looking into her soul.  
“Strange, you seem to actually believe me, I suppose I must be thankful that it isn’t Potter, Weasley or Black here, they would undoubtedly strop and rage for days before they even thought about believing me. Dumbledore was dying since just before your sixth year and he knew that if I killed him, my position with the Dark Lord would be solidified. We thought there would be more time, so Albus could explain, even if it was only to one or two of the Order like Minerva or Lupin, but then he went with Potter to search for a Horcrux and Draco let the Death Eaters in.”  
He paused for a moment before continuing, “there was precious little time on the tower and I had to let down my Occlumency shields so he could give information of what had happened. I saw how the potion he had to drink had weakened him and knew that I would have to kill him then. The situation might have been saved, I could have explained what happened, but then Albus showed me that Potter was hiding, that he could see everything. Once again, the wretched boy ruined the plan and I was forced to flee.”

Hermione wanted to say that it wasn’t Harry’s fault, that really it was only down to him that Dumbledore was able to get back to the castle at all. It was all just a series of unfortunate events that conspired to mean Snape never had a chance to explain his actions. However, he would never accept this as an explanation at the moment, it would take a lot for Snape to get over the loathing he had for her best friend and she was not about to try and change his mind right now. Instead, she made no motion or sound, refusing to agree with him, but not wishing to anger him either.  
He carried on, oblivious to her thoughts, “I cannot leave the Dark Lord’s headquarters now due to the bounty on my head and so He has me working on two research tasks, a way for him to gain true immortality not linked to his Horcruxes, which he has no idea anyone else is aware of. He also wishes for a foolproof way to kill Potter, for he refuses to get another wand and Priori Incantatum prevents him from being able to destroy Potter. I have so far come up with many ideas for both, but they are either unsubstantiated or with little errors that will make them unfeasible.”  
His face darkened, “however, the Dark Lord grows impatient and I, or we now, must come up with something solid soon or risk death. That is why it is imperative that Potter finds and destroys the Horcruxes soon so the Final Battle can begin, our lives depend on it and trust me, putting my life in Potter’s hands is not something I’m particularly happy about.” 

Despite the situation, Hermione had to bite her lip to stop herself laughing at his comment, the dry wit amused her very much so. Despite her efforts, he seemed to notice her amusement and his lips curled up into a quick smirk before returning to his usual scowl. He was relieved that she was comfortable enough with him to relax at least a little, though he knew it would be a while before she truly trusted him. He would much rather have the girl feel at least a little safe with him rather than have her kick up a fuss and refuse to speak or help because of fear.  
“What am I to do then?” she asked him, “are we to try and find a way to kill Voldemort?”  
Snape’s eyes flashed, “call him the Dark Lord if you will Miss Granger. Yes, we are to work on a method to kill the Dark Lord by finding out all we can about the location of his Horcruxes. At the same time we must also research the two tasks the Dark Lord gave to us, though we must not make much headway of course.”  
Hermione nodded, she was determined to help Harry in any way she could, it did not matter that she was trapped in Voldemort’s headquarters, she would do her part for the war.

“We will begin our research tomorrow morning,” Snape told her, “the Dark Lord will expect it as he assumes I will spend this evening punishing you for your insolence earlier and ‘persuading’ you to help with the research.”  
Hermione shuddered, infinitely glad that she didn’t have to go through the painful experiences Snape was obviously referring to, “so what will we be doing for the rest of the evening?”  
“Unfortunately, Albus has requested that I bring his portrait out so he may converse with you, it was meant to be a last resort in case you didn’t believe me, but he decided he would speak to you regardless of your feelings.”  
He spoke with a sneer, but Hermione could detect an undertone of respect and care for the deceased Headmaster - Snape could try and hide behind his persona of ‘bat of the dungeons’, but Hermione could see there was at least a little compassion buried deep within him. She nodded her consent to Snape’s words and he stood, heading off into a side chamber of his rooms. She sat there for a few minutes, feeling a little out of place in her ex-Potion Master’s private quarters, until he returned with a large portrait of their beloved dead Headmaster. 

Snape set the portrait down in one of the chairs so it could face Hermione, before disappearing off into another of the side chambers, muttering about how he had desire to listen to Albus harp on about plans he already knew about, for he had helped create them. Dumbledore’s portrait beamed at Hermione, even in paint and canvas that famous twinkle of his seemed ever present in his bright blue eyes.  
“My dear Miss Granger, I’m so pleased that you are well … or as well as one could be in a place like this,” he told her, a grave look on his lined face. “From the quick words I exchanged with Severus as he fetched me from the safe, you are taking the truth about what happened on the tower rather well, may I be so bold as to ask why that is?”  
Hermione gave a delicate shrug, “Harry told us what happened, but when I thought about it carefully it just didn’t seem to add up. Snape could have just killed you before, so many opportunities with no witnesses. Then, after all he’d done for Harry, even if it had been reluctant, I don’t think he could have remained true to Voldemort. I spoke to Remus at Bill and Fleur’s wedding before the attack, I knew he was one of the few who would really take my worries seriously. He agreed that Harry might be a bit too focused on gaining revenge on Snape, after all he looked up to you so much,” she said, wondering all the while if portraits could cry, because Dumbledore’s seemed to be doing a pretty good job of leaking a few tears of happiness.  
“Remus also said he was sure there were things we didn’t know, that you always kept a lot of secrets, but that we just didn’t have the time right then to focus on it all.”

Dumbledore’s painted face nodded, “yes, I thought that Remus might be one of the Order who might look beyond what Harry saw that night, I assume I am correct in thinking that you considered talking to either Minerva or Kingsley as well.”  
She nodded and he gave a smile that crinkled his eyes, “I thought so, you are a very intelligent and capable witch after all.”  
She beamed at the compliment, it meant an awful lot coming from such a great and powerful wizard as Dumbledore.  
“I understand that Severus has explained what you are to do and I will do my best to assist you, but I am only a portrait after all, so the bulk of the work will fall to the pair of you.”  
Hermione nodded, “sir, if you don’t mind me asking, why is it that you have two portraits, it is mostly unheard of?”  
Dumbledore’s portrait nodded, “very true my dear, but my two portraits are very special, for they both hold the knowledge each one gains. I ensured Severus received this one so he knew something of Order plans and so he could communicate with the Order in an emergency. Once Severus informed me of the plan to capture you, I called Harry and told him to let the rest of the inner Order in on the problem of Horcruxes, for I knew that things would get difficult when you were captured and Harry and Mr Weasley couldn’t rely on your research skills. The rest of the time, I pretend to be asleep to prevent having to speak of any difficult topics.”

Hermione nodded in understanding, “yes, I wondered why he suddenly changed his mind because he’d been so insistent that only the three of us know about the Horcruxes. Since Sirius had just returned I presumed he wanted to share it with his godfather, but now I think about it, he would never have done anything without permission from you, he respected your wishes too much.”  
Dumbledore smiled a little at her words, before turning solemn, “now Miss Granger, I must impress upon you the importance of your work, though I’m sure you will approach it with your usual diligence, lives depend on your research.”  
Hermione knew that of course, it was one of the main factors that had led to late nights in the library at Hogwarts, trying to discover information on Horcruxes, the Half-Blood Prince and so many other topics.  
“I think that is all we need to speak about at the moment Miss Granger, but rest assured that if you wish to speak to me, just ask Severus and I’m sure he’ll be happy to fetch me from the safe.”  
Hermione raised her eyebrows and Dumbledore’s portrait chuckled, “well, maybe not happy to do it, but he will do it nonetheless I’m sure.”  
She nodded and was just about to call Snape to put Dumbledore’s portrait back, when he spoke, “one last thing Miss Granger, whatever happens, no matter what it may seem like, trust Severus and I’m sure you will be fine.”  
Hermione’s brown eyes locked onto the painting as she wondered just what could have caused Dumbledore to feel the need to assure her once again that Snape was loyal - she guessed she would just have to wait and see.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione was sitting rather awkwardly in one of the armchairs, sipping hot chocolate as Snape read what appeared to be a Potions journal. They had both been silent since Snape had put away Dumbledore’s portrait almost half an hour ago and Hermione was rapidly becoming bored. There had been an array of food, along with tea, coffee and hot chocolate on the table between them and Hermione had snacked on a few sandwiches and a slice of cake, before pouring herself a cup of hot chocolate. While Snape had pulled out the journal after a few minutes, Hermione hadn’t dared touch anything for fear of inciting Snape’s terrifying wrath, something she wished to avoid if at all possible. Of course, this meant she was rather bored and eventually this boredom won out over her fear and she coughed slightly, gaining Snape’s attention.  
He looked up at her with a rather annoyed look on his face, but she spoke before she changed her mind, “sir, if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly should I be doing right now?”  
Snape placed his book down on the table and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, at least he didn’t appear to be particularly angry with her - he was downright scary when he wasn’t happy.  
“There is no point in beginning research now, so I suppose you may read one of my books,” he said with an expression that told her he didn’t particularly want to offer, “but you must ensure you take good care of them or there will be hell to pay.”  
Hermione nodded eagerly, her eyes glassing over as she looked at the bookcases, so much to read.

Severus had to stop himself chuckling at the look on Miss Granger’s face, he knew she loved books, but up until that moment he’d never realised just how reverently she treated them. Then again, he knew she spent an awful lot of time in the library, she had to in order to get her essays to the standard they were. While he would have rather ingested poison than tell her, she was a remarkably intelligent student and her work always went above and beyond what was required, with obscure sources from numerous Potions texts, along with her own opinions. Truthfully, Hermione Granger’s essays were the only highlight in his marking. Most students were complete dunderheads when it came to Potions and while there were a few vaguely intelligent pupils, their essays still tended to be rather boring with few examples of independent research.  
He knew he should probably be kinder to the girl, after all she had just been ripped away from her friends, along with having to face, and be tortured by, the Dark Lord, yet she still found it in her to believe his story. Despite this, Severus wasn’t a particularly nice person and wasn’t used to being nice to anyone, not even Albus, though the old man had never let his caustic remarks and constant sarcasm annoy him. He would be polite to Miss Granger and not to upset her, as long as she didn’t act like a weepy little girl they would be just fine.

Hermione was in Heaven, she was sure of it. Snape had a lot of books and the large majority were old, rare tomes that Hermione would love to get her hands on. She didn’t know which one to read first, but she didn’t want to look like an idiot, practically bouncing round the room with happiness, so she selected a thick volume on defensive spells, figuring it might come in handy pretty soon. She sat back down in her chair, poured herself some more hot chocolate and soon became lost in the book. It was so fascinating, filled with methods Hermione would never have thought of, she only wished the rest of the Order were here so she could tell them just some of what she was learning. The book wasn’t dark, as Harry and Sirius often snidely commented when they talked of Snape’s possible personal library, some of the spells were on the grey side, but was required desperate measures sometimes and it wasn’t like they would be resorting to dark magic.  
She was so enthralled in her book that she didn’t notice Snape put his own aside in favour of just watching her read, marvelling at the amount of concentration she employed when reading - it was so rare to find such an intellectual. In fact, Hermione remained oblivious to the world around her until she heard voices speaking and put her book down, looking in the direction the sound was coming from.

Her eyes widened as she found herself face to face with Rabastan Lestrange.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione just stared blankly at the man who had been sent to Azkaban for aiding in the torture of Neville’s parents Frank and Alice, the man who had spoken to her with such scorn as he dragged her up to see Voldemort. The man who was, for some strange reason, smiling at her. It wasn’t an evil smile, or a smirk, or even a condescending smile - it was an actual, honest to Merlin, genuine smile - and it was for her.  
She didn’t quite know how to react, her first thought was to yell, to attack him with everything she had to make him pay for what he’d done to her friend’s parents and likely many others. However, she didn’t know what he knew - perhaps Snape brought him here for some sort of ploy, or he had come to check she was still here. Would he realise she wasn’t a prisoner? She wasn’t harmed and she didn’t want Snape to be killed for not harming her. She remained silent, waiting for some indication of what she was supposed to do. Suddenly Snape gave a short laugh, “honestly Miss Granger, if I’d known that this was all it took to shut you up then I would have brought Rabastan to Potions lessons long ago.”

“What are you talking about sir,” Hermione said indignantly, “I wasn’t that bad … was I?”  
Snape rolled his eyes, “you had your know-it-all moments Miss Granger, believe me, but I admit you got better as you got older and I suppose I have to thank you for stopping Longbottom from blowing up the classroom twice a week as I’m sure he would have done had you not been there.”  
Hermione nodded in recognition of the tacit praise from her former professor before turning to Rabastan with narrowed eyes.  
The dark-haired man, who Hermione had to admit was extremely handsome, gave her another grin and stuck out his hand, “Rabastan Lestrange at your service.”  
Hermione took the offered hand reluctantly after Snape nodded his consent, “Hermione Granger, but I suppose you already know that.”  
He nodded, dropping down onto a sofa next to the armchair she was sitting in, “I’ve heard all about you these past few weeks, I’m afraid that what was said wasn’t particularly complimentary, but that comes from the death eaters so you can’t expect anything else,” he told her with ease. “Severus was rather nice about you, or as nice as he ever is, I’m sure we’ll get on just fine.” 

Hermione looked from a beaming Rabastan to the surly Snape incredulously, wondering why exactly Rabastan thought they were going to be friends and why Snape wasn’t saying anything about it. Rabastan was chatting away now and Hermione, who found it difficult not to be polite even when in the presence of an alleged murderer, listened to him talk, “… and while I personally love the name Hermione - your parents got it from Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale I presume - it is a little long winded, especially when one is drunk I imagine, and I’m afraid that Severus and I tend to end up getting rather drunk a lot, to try and cope with what we have to see and do. Do you mind if I just call you Mia, so much easier to say and a rather nice name, not like Hermione of course but it has merit.”  
Hermione found herself struck dumb by Rabastan’s words and character, why did an eminent and prejudiced pureblood like himself know a muggle author like Shakespeare so well? His whole manner towards her was easy, playful and kind, so unlike the coldness he’d exhibited while taking her from her cell to Voldemort. Could it really have been just an act?

Severus, who’d been watching as Hermione got steadily more confused, finally decided to cut his friend’s ramblings short and explain the situation to the girl.  
He coughed to catch Rabastan’s attention and the man fell silent as Severus turned to Hermione, “you can calm down Miss Granger, Rabastan is not what you think he is. I know you and most of the wizarding world are under the impression that he was involved in the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom, but the truth is that he arrived after the incident.”  
He turned to Rabastan, who continued the story, “I’m a spy, I became one at the same time as Severus did, not that I’d been too involved before, I always tried to get out of killing when at all possible. The bloodthirsty reputation my family has comes solely from Rodolphus and my bitch of a sister-in-law. I’d just heard of the plot to attack the Longbottoms and I went to warn them, despite the fact that they didn’t know what side I was on. When I got there it was too late and I was arrested with the others. At that time there were no real trials and I was sent to Azkaban, despite Dumbledore’s efforts. Ever since He rose again I’ve spied along Severus and he told me about the plan regarding you.”

Hermione just nodded, a little bit dazed by the information she had just been told. She wasn’t quite sure whether or not to believe it, but then she remembered Dumbledore’s last words to her before his portrait was put away;  
“One last thing Miss Granger, whatever happens, no matter what it may seem like, trust Severus and I’m sure you will be fine.”  
So she should trust Snape and he obviously trusted Rabastan. She looked up at the two men nervously, “I believe you, I think, but I just want to know why no one else in the Order has mentioned you, they talk about Snape all the time.”  
“They don’t know about me,” Rabastan told her, “unlike Severus, my whole family was deep into the dark arts and practically worshipped the Dark Lord. It would be much more difficult for me to hide going to Order meetings, not to mention dangerous if any suspicion fell on me. I passed my information onto Severus to give Dumbledore, since I’d never have any reason to go to Hogwarts, the two of them were the only ones to ever know of my true loyalty - now you do as well.”  
Hermione couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for Rabastan, it seemed as if he was the odd one out in his family, forced to act a part he didn’t want to play to preserve his own life and help others.

She smiled at Rabastan, it was a small gesture, but all three in the room knew it meant she accepted him and his story. She would be as loyal to him as she would to any Order member, after all his hidden work as a spy he deserved that at least. She was rather glad to have him around, while she was sure Snape could be an excellent conversationalist when he wished, since he was an incredibly intelligent man, he was also more than a little unapproachable at times with his moods.  
Rabastan, when he was in the company of those who knew he wasn’t a true death eater, was the complete opposite; jovial, talkative and joking, he was just what Hermione needed in order to lighten her mood. Hermione couldn’t help but enjoy the nickname of Mia, while she liked her own name it felt kind of special to have someone care enough to shorten it and she was greatly amused by his reasons behind it.  
Rabastan, for his part, was happy to have a willing conversationalist, in his element as he swapped Hogwarts stories with Hermione. Severus was probably his true best friend and he was incredibly loyal to him, but he wasn’t always in the best mood, especially since Dumbledore’s death, so Rabastan was pleased with a new face to talk to.

Hermione loved talking to Rabastan, but while on the surface he was practically carefree and full of life, she was rather observant and noticed things bubbling under the surface. He refused to talk about his early life or his family and Hermione wisely left that topic alone, knowing who just two of his family were meant she understood why he wouldn’t want to talk about it. Also, while his stories of Hogwarts were excellent, he had been in the same year as Snape, Lily and the Marauders and so there were dozens of entertaining stories, they were also rather general and he rarely spoke about why he personally did during the years, especially his fifth through seventh years.  
Once again, Hermione guessed that there must be things there he was ashamed of and only hoped he would one day trust her enough to speak about them with her - after all, sharing could only help. Still, she didn’t push, sensing that he needed someone to talk to about inane things he couldn’t with Death Eaters or Snape, with whom topics of conversation were often serious.  
By the time Rabastan stood to leave, Hermione was delighted with her new acquaintance, despite the circumstances under which they had met. He spoke quietly with Snape for a few moments, for he had actually been sent to ensure Snape had ’disciplined’ her properly and they had to get their stories straight. Rabastan kissed her hand when he said goodbye, his pureblood training showing she presumed, before he disappeared down a darkened corridor. 

Snape spoke little once Rabastan left and quickly showed Hermione his guest room, where she would reside during her stay at Voldemort’s headquarters. It was a cosy room and she was reminded of her own at home, a comparison which made her a little homesick.  
Snape left very quickly, telling her he would wake her about nine in the morning and to ensure she got a good sleep because they would be working hard. As she lay in bed in a long green nightgown Snape had transfigured for her she thought longingly of all the Order, who would no doubt be worried out of their minds now Remus had likely told them she was under Snape’s care.  
She was just glad they were safe and would just hope they remained so as she tried to help find a way to end the war. She fell into a surprisingly restful sleep and spent the night dreaming of her friends, unaware of just how much her life would change.


	5. Channelling The Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione researches, learns and gets to know Severus a little better.

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"If you believe you can, you probably can. If you believe you won't, you most assuredly won't. Belief is the ignition switch that gets you off the launching pad."   
Denis Waitley

Hermione woke to the sound of a male voice urging her to get up and in her dozy state she thought it was Harry and Ron, that she was back at the Burrow. It was only after she’d rubbed sleep from her eyes and properly woken up that she realised the voice was silkier than either Harry or Ron’s, not to mention a whole lot sharper. It all came flooding back to her in a slew of memories as she woke; Bill’s wedding, death eaters, Voldemort, Snape, Rabastan. Oh Merlin, she was trapped in a set of rooms with Snape, who was in fact not the traitor everyone believed him to be, expected by Voldemort to help destroy her best friend, while also attempting to find a way to destroy the maniac Dark Lord right under his own nose. She could feel hyperventilation coming on and it was not pleasant. Damnit, she had to snap out of this panic before Snape came back, for he would surely not be pleased at the state she was currently in.

Deciding that the best way to calm down was to wake up a little more, she dragged herself out of bed and into the small bathroom next to the guest bedroom she’d been given. Running a basin full of cold water, she splashed her face, shivering at the temperature, but glad it had managed to properly wake her up. She checked her watch, there was still half an hour until Snape had said he would wake her up and she was unsure of what to do until then. While Snape’s library was tempting, she didn’t really want to set foot outside her room until her came to get her, for she didn’t know what she was allowed to touch and which things were off limits. It felt a little awkward to her, that she may end up getting a partially free run over Snape’s personal quarters, so she didn’t fancy annoying him too quickly. While the situation would undoubtedly be difficult, Hermione knew it could be a million times worse and she would be forever thankful to Snape for saving her from a fate likely worse than death. 

Deciding it would probably be best to be dressed when Snape came, Hermione moved over to the wardrobe she’d spotted in the corner of the room the night before. Opening it, she was assaulted with dust and only managed to see inside properly after two separate sneezing fits caused by said dust. The wardrobe obviously hadn’t been opened in a while, explaining why the simple, full length blue cotton dress and plain black robes were in the style of 1980’s wizarding fashion. She slipped the dress and robe on, before despairing over her curly hair and pulling it into a messy bun. Settling onto her bed and managed to read five chapters of The Application Of Arithmantic Principles To Everyday Situations, which she’d discovered on her bedside table, before Snape knocked and entered the small bedroom.  
“I see you are awake Miss Granger, come quickly, you will have to eat breakfast quickly, as we have a lot of work to do today.”  
Hermione nodded and followed him out to the sitting room, where there was a plate of toast, bacon, sausages and eggs, along with a mug of coffee, on a small table. Hermione smiled briefly at Snape and nodded her thanks, before sitting down to eat as quickly as she deemed healthy.

Snape vanished the plates as soon as she was done and took a seat opposite her, “despite our need for research, the first item on our agenda is to teach you a sufficient amount of wandless magic. I am sure you are aware that your wand has been taken and, I’m afraid to say, destroyed by the Dark Lord’s own hand. Thankfully, you appear to be well trained in Occlumency, I will be curious to learn how you accomplished that feat, but I presume you are not yet capable of wandless magic.”  
Hermione nodded, “I guess that now isn’t the time to explain my Occlumency abilities, but you are right in assuming I have no wandless capabilities. I have looked up the theory and know the basics of it, but never had any time to practice it.”  
Snape nodded, “well at least we have some base to work from, I can’t imagine the difficulties I would have if it was Potter or Weasley I had to teach.”  
Hermione wanted to defend her friends, while they might not be the most hard-working boys, they had talent, as shown by Harry mastering a Patronus age thirteen and Ron’s impressive logic skills. Still, she needed to learn wandless magic and she didn’t want to aggravate her teacher before they even began, so she held her tongue - perhaps once they’d spent more time together she would feel vaguely comfortable trying to argue for her best friends’ positive attributes. 

“We should start simple,” Snape told her, “perhaps Wingardium Leviosa - once you get the hang of easier spells, the harder ones come easier.”  
Hermione nodded, eager to begin, it had been a while since she’d studied something challenging since she always read ahead for her classes.  
Snape conjured a glass and placed it on the table in front of her, “wandless magic is different to wand magic in the concentration that is needed. When you have a wand your magic is concentrated and amplified through it, so it takes little concentration to perform simpler spells and, once you’ve got the hang of them, not that much more to perform more complex spells. There was a time when all witches and wizards used wandless magic, before the discovery of wands, but now it doesn’t come naturally and you have to work incredibly hard at it. Once you have mastered channelling your magical core, which is required for wandless magic, then you will be able to perform spells wandlessly using only the effort needed with a wand.”  
He paused to demonstrate, flicking his hand almost imperceptibly and levitating the glass, “words and incantations don’t have a place with wandless magic, which is what makes it so difficult. You can’t learn it and speak the words, before then learning it wordless, you have to go straight to silent casting. I must also warn you not to get disgruntled, which you undoubtedly will, when you are incapable of mastering wandless magic first time around. It takes many lesser witches and wizards years to learn even the basics, so you should be pleased with even a little progress.” 

Hermione frowned at his words, she didn’t like the idea of such tiny amounts of progress, sure she liked a challenge, but not in the frustrating ’I’m never going to get this’ way. She still remembered fifth year and that damn Patronus - the only spell she’d ever had any trouble with. Sudden visions of failing to do even the simplest wandless spell danced before her eyes and she narrowed her eyes in determination, she would learn wandless magic if it killed her - she would not be a failure.  
Severus couldn’t help but be amused by the look in Hermione Granger’s eye - it was one he recognised, knowing it had been present on his face many a time, a look of pure determination. That was good, he supposed, she would need to be focused to learn wandless magic and her determination would serve her well when it came to constant practice. He could only hope she didn’t take her likely first failures too badly, he didn’t care to deal with a moody Gryffindor. Of course, he knew deep down that Miss Granger was one of the few Gryffindors who wouldn’t overreact as most of her house would, she was more sensible than that, but the Slytherin in him would not condone such complimenting of one of Godric’s house.

Snape set Hermione some meditation tasks to begin with - it was very important that she learn to clear her mind and concentrate on her magical core.  
He was a little surprised when she fell into a semi-trance so easily, most young people had trouble with it, their minds too full and active. He knew Granger was studious and read an awful lot, meaning she would have a higher than average level of concentration, but he wouldn’t have thought she had so much. When he brought her out of her trace twenty minutes later he questioned her immediately on her technique, had she tried it before?  
Her answer was a sheepish smile, “I haven’t ever done any practical work towards wandless magic, but I’ve done meditation before.”  
He just stared at her, before she shrugged and closed her eyes. He was about to ask her what the hell she was doing, when her body suddenly began to shrink - down and down, while her hair appeared to grow out. A few moments later and not a girl, but a fox, stood before him, fur the colour of chocolate and with Hermione’s honey eyes - she was an Animagus.

Severus didn’t quite know what to say, so he settled on the obvious question, “when, Miss Granger, did you find the time to become an Animagus, an illegal one at that, I presume.”  
Hermione grinned, “I thought it prudent to have as many advantages as possible, so I began the training at the beginning of sixth year and gained my form just after sixth year ended - no one in the Order knows yet. I thought about trying to help Harry and Ron, but Harry has a lot on his plate right now and I didn’t think Ron had the right concentration yet. I was going to tell Sirius, because of course he’s an unregistered Animagus, but I never got round to it before I was captured.”  
Snape sighed, “of course, you would attempt it despite the dangers. I presume that is why you know mediation techniques, Animagus training requires it - I wonder why you didn’t get Minerva to assist you.”  
Hermione shrugged, “teachers are very busy, with many calls on their time, not to mention I wasn’t sure she’d let me, it isn’t really recommended for anyone still in school to attempt a transformation.”  
Snape gave her a sardonic smile, “so of course, the Gryffindor know-it-all had to try all on her own, disregarding all safety rules and running the possibility of ending up as an animal permanently, or stuck in some sort of half-state between human and animal.”  
Hermione beamed at him, “sounds about right sir, but enough about my lawless days at Hogwarts and back to wandless magic.”

Luckily, he didn’t take her jesting words as cheek and instead bade her to sit down as he explained the next step to her. “Since you obviously have the mediation technique practically perfected, we shall move onto the next step, which is practicing hand movements. If you ever reach the level of mastery someone like Albus had of wandless magic then you will need no movements to perform magic, just your mind. However, the majority of those who manage wandless magic still have to use their hands in stead of wands, though normally all it takes is a flick or twist.”  
He promptly demonstrated said hand movements and Hermione was pleased to see that there was not a different hand movement for every spell, as there was with wand movement, flicks were for simpler spells, while twists were added for more difficult ones. Snape had her practice the movements without trying the actual spells for a rather monotonous half hour and while it got boring very quickly she knew it was necessary and so carried on without complaint. Snape, as had often happened in Potions lessons, could find nothing to criticise and so said nothing at all bar the odd comment about a slight change in her hand movements. Hermione had hoped that away from public view and the ever suspicious Slytherins, he would perhaps behave a little more decently, but perhaps that had been too much to hope for - she guessed they would have to work on cordiality through baby steps.

Once Hermione had the hand movements perfect, Snape instructed her to mediate some more while he went off to do an errand. She was a little worried at the thought of being left in his quarters alone when anyone could walk in, but, almost as if he sensed her anguish, he stiffly informed her not to open the door to anyone and also of the fact that it would take a small army a considerable time to get through the wards on his chambers. The only one who would manage it quickly was Voldemort and he was unlikely to come visiting when he had evil plots to create.  
Satisfied that she wasn’t going to be murdered while he was away, Hermione settled down to meditate while Snape left, muttering about “bloody Gryffindors, they annoy the hell out of you and don’t even have the brave trait their house is supposed to be famous for.”  
Hermione had allowed her lips to quirk upwards at that comment, despite its derogatory nature towards her house, before she settled down quietly and began the process of accessing her core.

Most witches and wizards had a vague idea of what magical mediation constituted, for it was used in a variety of processes, including preparation for becoming an animagus, unlocking repressed memories and wandless magic. However, very few knew how to properly meditate, for animagus training required only a low level and few attempted wandless magic, which required a more concentrated version. Magical mediation, simply put, was reaching deep inside you to find the part that was magical - your magical core. This core was the centre of a witch or wizard’s magic and could only be seen mentally, during a period of great concentration and contemplation. The core burned within the witch or wizard and the brighter it was, the more powerful the being was.  
From what Hermione knew, she would guess that Voldemort and Dumbledore, before his death, were at the highest end of the scale. Snape was probably pretty high up as well, while Hermione was somewhere between him and a large proportion of the Order (who were a little further down the scale than Snape), such as Remus, Sirius, Tonks, Moody and Kingsley.  
She was unsure about Harry; while his raw power was probably on the scale of Snape, or even Dumbledore, the power he could currently access was more on the scale of most of the Order - Harry had never been particularly good at meditation, which was useful in releasing more power. If Hermione ever got out of Voldemort’s hideout, she would try and teach him.  
Meditation in the context of wandless magic helped a witch or wizard become attuned to their magic, rather than relying on a wand to bridge the gap between their conscious mind and their magic. When this was done, wandless magic came a lot easier, but few had the mental concentration to successfully mediate for the required period. Hermione, on the other hand, was used to tuning noisy people out as she tried to work and so it came a little easier to her.

Hermione was so deep in meditation that she didn’t notice when Snape had returned, nor did her concentration waver as he picked a potions text from his shelf and sat down in a chair opposite her to read. It was only when her eyes finally opened, twenty-five minutes after Snape left (and incidentally, ten minutes after he returned) that she saw him sitting there.  
The shock of someone right before her eyes as she opened them made her topple sideways off her armchair, much to her embarrassment. Snape didn’t laugh, much to her relief, but he raised a dark eyebrow, smirking at her misfortune and she was sorely tempted to stick her tongue out at him, though she quickly repressed the desire.  
She pulled herself up and dropped back onto the chair in front of him, “so sir, what are we doing next?”  
Snape gazed at her critically for a moment before speaking, “since you are obviously well versed in meditation, we shall leave that alone for now, though I would advise preparing yourself when you ‘wake’ from your meditation, we don’t want you falling off any more chairs do we?”  
This was said with the barest hint of malice and she thought she might even detect some concern, so she let the slight slide and listened intently as he spoke. “It is perhaps best if you try one of the simplest wandless spells and then we will have lunch, before starting on the research the Dark Lord expects us to be doing.”

Hermione nodded as he set a book in front of her and instructed her to do as they had practiced. She closed her eyes and delved deep inside herself to find her magical core. She stayed there a few moments before opening her eyes, flicking her hand and thinking Wingardium Leviosa as hard as she could - nothing happened.  
She gave a slight sigh of frustration, much to Snape’s amusement, “do not despair Miss Granger, I warned you that it would not be easy, even for a know-it-all such as yourself. You must ensure you contain your annoyance or you will lose your concentration and have to begin mediation again.”  
Hermione didn’t acknowledge his words, though she had heard them, since she didn’t want to lose her concentration. Instead, she focused once more and tried again - and again - and again. Fifteen failed attempts passed by in the next twenty minutes and while Snape was as encouraging as could be expected of the acerbic man, he still shot a fair few cutting remarks at her attempts. When she finally accomplished her goal - on her sixteenth attempt - she was absolutely delighted and even Snape had to give a little smirk at her childlike happiness.

There was of course no ‘well done’ from Snape, but she hardly expected such praise from the wizard and was content with the fact that he had taken the time to teach her. She carefully levitated the glass back onto the table before she began the spell again - practice did make perfect after all. She was on her fourth successful levitation when the door to Snape’s quarters suddenly opened and Hermione lost her concentration, the glass dropping to the floor and shattering with a crash. She whipped her head round, fully prepared to see a death eater, or even Voldemort, who would undoubtedly wonder why the prisoner was so happy. She was rather relieved then, when she saw it was in fact only Rabastan, mentally smacking herself for her stupidity - no one had access to Snape’s quarters but him, and obviously Rabastan, who was a spy as well.  
She glanced apologetically at Snape, who repaired the glass without comment, “honestly Miss Granger, you really should learn to remain constantly vigilant. A Slytherin would likely have never been caught so unaware and even if they had been, they would have the sense and training not to react as you did.”  
She flushed red, though she knew Snape was just trying to teach her, sending a smile to Rabastan as he came to her defence. “Don’t be so hard on Mia,” he told Snape, using the nickname he had given her at their previous meeting, “she’s only learning, not everyone has been both a Slytherin and a spy.”

Snape rolled his eyes, a childish expression that Hermione privately thought belonged more on Ron or Sirius’ faces, though she would never tell Snape that. “Rabastan, if you think that is my being hard on her, then you don’t know me nearly as well as you think.”  
Rabastan laughed, a deep, rich sound that sort of reminded her of Sirius, “oh I know how terrible you can be when you’re in one of your moods Severus, not to mention the stories I’ve heard about some of your lessons, but this is neither of those situations and Mia here is suffering enough as it is, being stuck in the Dark Lord’s headquarters and away from her friends.”  
Snape gave a sneer, “be that as it may, we must make the best of the situation and she must learn or she won’t survive long.”  
Rabastan smirked, “you know I’m right, that’s why you’re being so dramatic - you shouldn’t scare her so with talk of death.”  
He cut Snape off as the man went to speak, “we all know this is a war Severus, and doubtless she knows that she might die, there’s no need for you to remind her of it.”  
Hermione, who had been looking back and forth between the arguing friends, wondering why on earth they were fighting over how Snape behaved towards her, finally decided it was time to intervene. “You know, I am still here, no need to argue, I’m fine - honestly.”

Snape turned to glare at Rabastan, “see, nothing I said bothered the girl,” he told his friend, unaware of Hermione’s slight annoyance not in what he had said, but at being referred to as the girl - still, it was better than know-it-all or insufferable.  
“Now Rabastan,” said Snape, “you don’t normally stop by for a social call, so may I ask the reason for your visit?”  
Rabastan’s face lost its easy, carefree expression and he spoke with distaste in his voice, “we may have a problem with regards to Lucius, he’s been asking a little too much after Mia here, so much so that the Dark Lord has become aware of the extent of his … fascination, with her.”  
Hermione narrowed his eyes at Rabastan’s words, “what’s going on, what has Lucius Malfoy got to do with me?”  
Snape sighed and Hermione got the impression that he knew this was a conversation they needed to have, but that he didn’t particularly relish the task. “Lucius Malfoy has been, interested shall we say, by you since your first year at Hogwarts - the muggleborn girl who beat Draco and every other student in your year, not to mention being best friends with Harry Potter to boot. When he met you just before your second year he became further … enamoured, and set about finding out what he could about you.”  
He paused there, and Hermione was glad he had, for she needed a few moments to process the rather disturbing things she had just found out.”  
“Suffice to say,” Snape told her, “he has since researched a lot about you, we’re not quite sure how far it goes, but we do not it is a rather worrying obsession that has gone so far that even Draco and Narcissa are aware of it.”

Hermione didn’t quite know what to say - after all, how did one respond to the fact that a bigoted, dangerous, pureblood Death Eater had some sort of creepy fixation with them?  
Snape seemed to get her reaction without her saying anything, he appeared rather good at reading people, “I don’t think we need to worry at the moment, if the Dark Lord has noticed he won’t let Lucius near you, he needs you for research too much to risk what Lucius might do.”  
Hermione wasn’t sure whether to be reassured by the fact that Lucius Malfoy wouldn’t be near anytime soon, or worried by what Malfoy senior would do if he got the chance. She settled for neutrality and just nodded, before the talk of Malfoy reminded her of his son.  
“Erm, sir, when I was in the dungeons, Draco Malfoy came to visit me. He was … well there’s no other word for it, he was nice to me.”  
Both Snape and Rabastan stared at her incredulously, unable to comprehend a Malfoy being nice to a muggleborn. So Hermione explained, how Malfoy had spoken of his discontentment with life as Voldemort’s lackey, his slow change in ideology and his attempts to reassure Hermione about how Snape would treat her. Suffice to say that Hermione got to experience something few saw; Severus Snape lost for words. Granted, it was only a few moments before he recovered his composure, but it was still an experience.

“I must admit that your story comes as somewhat of a surprise to me; I knew Draco was worried during your sixth year, but he seemed determined to carry out his mission, even refusing the help I offered. I suppose I wasn’t so sure of his true loyalties when he was unable to kill Albus, but nothing gave me the impression that his beliefs were changing and that he no longer wished to serve the Dark Lord.”  
He turned to Hermione, “you will understand if Rabastan and I don’t take this information at face value, we are spies after all, and we can’t afford to make ourselves known when we are unsure if this is genuine or some elaborate plot to draw you into a false sense of security. Perhaps, though I am reluctant to do so, we should consult Albus.”  
Rabastan stifled a snort and Hermione guessed it was because Snape, despite how much he claimed to be irritated by the portrait, seemed to refer to Dumbledore on all matters. She had better sense than to laugh though, meaning Snape’s glare was directed at Rabastan rather than her. It seemed that the more time she spent in his company, the easier it became to work out when certain actions were acceptable - it also helped when Rabastan was there, for he seemed to take delight in annoying Snape and Hermione filed all his actions away so she could steer clear of them unless Snape was in a particularly good mood, however rare those seemed to be.

Dumbledore’s portrait was retrieved in short order by Snape, and placed in an armchair so the painted Dumbledore could see and speak to all three of the room’s occupants.  
He beamed as he saw Rabastan, “so nice to see you again my boy, I see you’ve met Miss Granger.”  
Rabastan nodded, “good to hear your voice again Albus, it’s been a while, perhaps I should come and chat some time …”  
Snape cut him off with a glare, “as charming as your conversation is, this is not the time for pleasantries as Miss Granger and I have many things to be getting on with so this little chat needs to be quick.”  
He briefly outlined their Malfoy situation to Dumbledore, who listened intently and spent a few minutes thinking the information over. He was already aware of Lucius Malfoy’s ‘interest’ in Hermione, but the part about Draco was new and he was pleased by what he heard. While he admitted it could be a ploy, he also mentioned that while it had just been him, Draco and an invisible Harry on the tower, Draco had not been particularly happy about what he was about to do and had struggled with it to the point of being unable to perform the task. Dumbledore was of the opinion that Draco Malfoy was genuine in his desire to change, but he urged them all to exercise caution and advised that Draco’s actions be monitored before either Snape or Rabastan made an attempt to speak to him about his possible defection to the light.

Dumbledore’s portrait was returned to its safe almost as soon as the decision was made, it was obvious that Snape wasn’t in the mood to entertain Dumbledore’s eccentricity and small talk.  
Rabastan took his leave soon after, though he promised to come and visit soon - “don’t despair Mia, I won’t leave you all alone with this grump for too long, I don’t know how you’d manage.”  
She soon found herself alone with Snape and not quite sure what to do. “Since I believe we’ve done enough wandless magic practice today, we will get straight down to research. I know you haven’t eaten so I’ll conjure some food and you can eat as you read. I have checked some of my texts to ensure that they’re safe for muggleborns and I want you to start with those. Since some of our research and the research the Dark lord wishes for overlaps - we want to destroy the Dark Lord and He wants to destroy Potter - we will be working on both simultaneously. Anything you find useful to the Dark Lord is recorded in this book,” he indicated to a green, bound notebook, “and anything you find useful to the Order goes in the red book. If there is something to go in both then just copy it. Do you understand?” he asked.  
She barely stopped herself rolling her eyes at him, she wasn’t a dunderhead potions student and was perfectly capable of carrying out instructions - “I understand perfectly sir.” He nodded, “good, then let’s begin.”


	6. Severus: A Tragedy In Three Parts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delving deeper into Severus' tragic life

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“All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.”  
Henry Ellis

The first ten years of Severus Snape’s life had been pretty terrible, though Severus himself would put most of his life under the ‘to be forgotten’ category. While his mother loved him, but she was a rather weak-willed witch, and her marriage to an abusive, alcoholic muggle meant her magic was patchy at the best of times. As for his father, Severus tried not to think of him if at all possible, as a child he had quickly learnt to stay out of Tobias Snape’s way as much as possible, especially if the man was drunk.  
The family were poor, due to his father squandering what little they had on drink and gambling, so Severus wore ridiculous, second-hand clothes that didn’t even fit him and tried not to go out much, lest he be laughed at. This resulted in his pale, almost vampiric pallor, and gave him his lifetime hatred of the outdoors, which was one of the reasons he remained so pale his whole life.  
His life had changed completely when he’d stumbled across Lily and Petunia Evans, soon realising Lily’s magical gift. Despite their rocky start, due mainly to Severus’ distaste for Petunia, they had soon become the best of friends and Severus felt that he mattered for once in his life. T  
heir friendship lasted with few problems for just over five years, despite the Marauders and their moronic actions, until that fateful afternoon after their DADA OWL exam. Severus could never remember that day without a mix of feeling; sadness, regret, loss, anger at both himself and the Marauders. He could recall every word spoken with perfect clarity, he liked to recall it when he was feeling depressed, though Merlin knows why because it always made him feel worse.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!”  
“Ah, Evans, don’t make me hex you.”  
“Take the curse off him then.”  
“There you go … you’re lucky Evans was here, Snivellus -”  
“I don’t need help from a filthy little mudblood like her!”  
“Fine, I won’t bother in future. And I’d wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus.”

It was surprising that, how just a sentence could change the course of someone’s life forever.  
Make no mistake, Severus knew it had changed his life forever, if he had just kept his mouth shut, thanked Lily in private later, then everything would have been ok. He would have still had his friend and would have never got that final push to join the Dark Lord. Lily would be alive - he would even cope with her being married to Potter if it meant that she lived.  
But, alas, he could not change the past, no matter how much he wished he could, nor could he give up and just stop living, for he had promised that he would keep Harry Potter alive for the sake of Lily’s memory. His life had gone on a downhill spiral after his friendship with Lily had broken down, he became even more immersed in the dark arts and soon found himself marked by the Dark Lord with no real knowledge of what he was doing - he was merely looking for a way out of the pain he felt after he lost his best friend and had been taken in by the seductive lines the Dark Lord was spouting.  
Deep down, in the little part of him that spoke with Lily’s voice, he had known he was selling his soul to the devil, but at the time he hadn’t cared, he would have done anything just to numb the pain and forget.

When the Dark Lord had fallen after Lily and Potter’s deaths, Severus had a brief reprieve of eleven years away from his service. Though he spent the first year in a drunken stupor whenever he could, mourning Lily’s death, he could cope with the monotone of teaching, despite the numerous dunderheads that passed through his classroom.  
His, not peaceful, but vaguely normal life was interrupted by the arrival of Harry Potter at Hogwarts - a boy who seemed at first to Severus as James Potter personified. His only redeeming feature, in Severus’ opinion, was his startling emerald eyes - heritage he had received from his mother.  
That had been the start of the headache that had persisted throughout the years Severus had been forced to teach Potter. He conceded that perhaps his first opinion of the boy had been a tad harsh, he was certainly not as arrogant as his father, Severus supposed the boy’s horrible relatives had seen to that - he’d never liked Petunia.  
Still, Potter had an uncanny ability for getting into trouble and Severus soon regretted the promise he’d made to himself and Lily’s memory - to keep Harry Potter alive - for it seemed to get more difficult as the years went by. With any other student it would have been easier, but no, Potter had to get involved with chasing after the Philosopher’s Stone, Basilisks, Dementors, Werewolves, Dragons and the Dark Lord.

Severus quickly learnt that where Potter was, Weasley and Granger were sure to follow.  
Severus wasn’t fond of Weasley, it wasn’t an overwhelming dislike like with Potter, but the boy was lazy, disrespectful and almost as dismal as Longbottom at Potions. On top of this, Weasley was also the epitome of Gryffindor behaviour - brave to a fault and with a disturbing lack of tact - which was incredibly annoying to Severus.  
Granger, on the other hand, was a completely different issue. She’d been an insufferable know-it-all her first few years, he hadn’t lied about that - sure, she was intelligent, but it was mostly book smarts and she had a definite refusal to sway from the textbook.  
However, he noticed that after her third year, her essays began to change, she wasn’t just mentioning dozens of Potion Masters, she was adding her opinions or improvements on the theories she read about - her work was actually interesting. He never told her any of this, but some of the ideas she came up with showed signs of genius and he’d been sorely tempted to discuss them with her.  
Of course, he held off, the head of Slytherin could never be seen to have an amiable conversation with the Gryffindor Princess. He had been curious when he glimpsed her Potions essays during her sixth year. He had been teaching DADA, while Slughorn, who was the most moronic suck-up Severus ever had the displeasure to meet, taught Potions. Slughorn couldn’t stop raving about his ‘Potions Prince’ - Potter had somehow got hold of his old book.  
However, when Severus saw Hermione’s essays he noticed she had reverted back to solid facts with no opinion or theorising. Somehow, he knew it was because she didn’t consider Slughorn worth the effort she gave Severus’ essays - that thought had put an almost smile on his face for a few hours and he had succeeded in going a day without giving any detentions. 

But he was digressing, despite his admiration for Hermione Granger, it did nothing to improve his like of Potter or Weasley and he was unimpressed at their stupid attempts to be the heroes.  
Then there was the ‘Golden Trio’s’ spat with Draco Malfoy. While he wouldn’t say the Malfoy brat didn’t deserve it most of the time, he was a dangerous enemy to make, considering his father, and during their sixth year, Severus has seen as their petty squabbles escalated to dangerous proportions.  
When Potter had attacked Draco with Sectumsempra - the curse HE had created, Severus had been hard pressed to contain the anger he felt. How dare James Potter’s son use such a curse, how dare he steal ideas from Severus’ old Potions book - he knew he shouldn’t have left it in the student cupboard.

The rest of the school year had passed in a blur that Severus would much rather forget - Death Eaters, plots and Albus’ death - the worst of it all.  
He soon found himself running from Hogwarts with Draco and the other Death Eaters who had entered Hogwarts, minus the idiot who had managed to get himself killed when one of Potter’s little friends had sidestepped the killing curse - Severus wouldn’t admit he was pleased that the teenager hadn’t been killed, that would have been admitting to some kind feeling and he’d never do that.  
Albus’ death and, it seemed, the fates conspiring against him, had landed him in the position he was now; trusted by the Dark Lord above all others, but stuck sharing quarters with the Gryffindor know-it-all, trying to ensure he kept both himself and his young charge alive, all the while trying to teach her wandless magic, research a way to kill the Dark Lord and try to hide the fact that he didn’t hate Granger as much as he thought he should - bugger.

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It was now three weeks since Hermione had been snatched away from the Order at Bill’s wedding - three weeks since she had learnt that Severus Snape was not a traitor and that Rabastan Lestrange, of all people, was actually a spy.  
The first few days had been a little awkward for both her and Snape, neither was used to being around the other for an extended period of time and they had never spent time together outside an academic setting, apart from the polite (on her side) and almost polite (on his side) greetings whenever Snape had stopped by Grimmauld Place the summer before the trio’s fifth year.  
However, after the awkward phase had passed and they had managed to get into a routine, things got a little better and now Snape was almost polite to her (most of the time). It also helped that Rabastan came down to visit a lot and so whenever there was the occasional silence or awkward moment he would cover it with his mile-a-minute conversation and humorous anecdotes.

The unofficial schedule Hermione and Snape adhered to had made her much more relaxed - Hermione thrived on organisation and once she knew what she would be doing and when she’d be doing it, she began to feel just a little more comfortable in Snape’s quarters.  
She would wake at nine, eat breakfast and then study wandless magic with Snape until eleven. They would then work on research for Voldemort from eleven until four, breaking for lunch at one, because the middle of the day was when Voldemort was most likely to send one of his lackeys to check on them. They would then do their own research to aid the Order until seven, eat dinner and then the rest of the evening was spent doing their own thing, though both always seemed to end up reading in the sitting room of Snape’s quarters.  
Hermione’s wandless magic was improving in leaps and bounds, but she was really in her element during the research. That was one of the things Hermione did best and she was always pleased when they went a day without Snape insulting her technique - she doubted he’d ever progress to praising her.

Rabastan tried to come by at least once a day, always seeming to bring a little sunshine with him. Despite his occasional melancholy, he seemed to be cheerfulness personified around Hermione and since she was not naïve enough to not realise the duties he had as a Death Eater, she knew he must try to put it behind her when he visited in order to cheer Hermione up - she appreciated it immensely.  
What she loved even more was how Snape would become more relaxed with his friend around. He never did anything particularly unlike him, but sometimes there would be a glint of amusement in his onyx eyes, a quirk of his mouth or an extra spice in the debates he and Hermione had. She was surprised by how much she enjoyed those moments - she’d never thought it possible to enjoy Snape’s company.  
She missed her friends terribly, no doubt about that, but Snape and Rabastan’s company made it just about bearable and she would be forever grateful. Despite this, she always felt as if there was a wall between Snape and herself, he would be cordial, even engaging sometimes, but the topics of conversation were always Potions or Defence, never anything personal. She knew she shouldn’t expect that sort of relationship so quickly, but she did wish for it.

It turned out that she got her wish, though the story Snape told her was by no means a cheerful one. A month had now passed since Hermione’s capture and she woke up one night, finding herself unable to get back to sleep. Cursing insomnia when she saw it was two in the morning she got up to find some hot chocolate in the little kitchen Snape’s quarters had, in the hope that it would help her get back to sleep.  
She stumbled out of her room, eyes still groggy from the feeling of sleep quickly falling away, but stopped short when she spotted the figure in one of the armchairs. Snape had a bottle of what appeared to be Firewhiskey in one hand and was taking occasional sips as he stared into the fire roaring in the fireplace opposite him. He looked … in pain … that was the only word she could think of, not physical pain, but the sort of look someone in severe emotional pain got.  
Hermione somehow felt like she was intruding on a very personal moment and was about to just go back into her room when she accidentally hit her foot of the table with a bang.

Snape’s head shot up - she guessed the war and work as a double agent had sharpened his reflexes - but he relaxed almost imperceptibly when he noticed it was just Hermione. For a few moments he just stared at her, dark eyes boring into her, and she realised with embarrassment that she hadn’t put a dressing gown on and her nightgown was rather short.  
She flushed red, but Snape didn’t seem to notice since the room was so dark, he just gestured for her to take a seat in one of the armchairs next to his. She did so tentatively, unsure as to the mood he was in - she knew first hand just how foul Snape could be when he wasn’t happy. She was relieved when she spotted that while he had been drinking, he was not rip-roaring drunk, but just seemed a little tired and exhausted of life.  
“You cannot sleep Miss Granger?” he asked quietly and she nodded her head, “it happens sometimes, I just wake up in the middle of the night and don’t go back to sleep - it’s normally because I have too much on my mind.”  
He inclined his head as if to acknowledge that he had the same problem sometimes. His lack of malice pushed Hermione to ask a question she would never normally dare to put to him, “why do you still call me Miss Granger sir?”

Snape smirked, “it is your name, is it not?”  
She rolled her eyes, “my surname, my name is Hermione, why don’t you call me that.”  
Snape shrugged, “you were my student for six years, I would not think it proper to call you anything else.”  
“Well, you might as well call me Hermione, we are working together and you aren’t my professor any more so it would just be easier.”  
Snape gazed at her for a moment, “if you wish, I will call you Hermione.”  
He paused for a minute, “I suppose that since I am no longer your Professor, it would be acceptable for you to call me Severus.”  
Hermione gave a nod, a small smile gracing her features at the unexpected honour bestowed on her. She did not show it, didn’t want to embarrass Severus, but she was practically jumping up and down inside - this was huge progress in their relationship as she doubted Severus would allow many her age to call him Severus. She didn’t quite know why, but she wanted to get to know him better, he fascinated her more than anything else ever had and she was determined to learn more.

Hermione reflected later that she must have been a little daring, for she decided to push her luck a little - Severus seemed in a decent mood - and ask him something personal, “why does it always seem like there’s a barrier between us?” she asked, a little timidly.  
She braced herself, waiting for the explosion, for him to tell her to mind her own business, for him to revoke her right to use his first name. She was met with silence for a few minutes and then when he finally spoke, Severus’ voice was clear, though she could detect a waver occasionally.  
“I am not an easy person to get along with Hermione, I do not generally enjoy company and I speak my mind, which doesn’t please some people. As a death eater, I try not to get too close to people, it just puts them in danger. Both are reasons for my distance, but the distance you speak of is probably the one related to my past. Few know the extent of it, only Albus and Rabastan really, I find it very hard to trust you see.”  
“Oh,” Hermione said, “it’s ok, you don’t have to tell me anything, I know its personal, probably very rude of me to ask you.”  
Severus quirked his lips, “you are an overly curious girl Hermione, I’m not surprised you asked. However, you are mistaken in thinking I don’t wish to tell you, you have been very … gracious, in trusting me after past events, not to mention your invaluable help with research. I will tell you my story, though I warn you that it is neither pleasant, nor with a happy ending.”

So he told her the story that only two people knew the extent of and he was right - it was certainly painful. “I suppose you could separate my life into three parts,” he told her, “pre-Lily, Lily and post-Lily,” Hermione was a little confused to begin with, until Severus whispered two words, “Lily Evans.”  
She gasped, unable to help it, “Harry’s mother?”  
He nodded and it suddenly hit her - the memory in Severus’ pensieve that Harry had seen - that was why they stopped being friends. Then there was what Harry had said, how Severus had brought Voldemort the prophecy, but regretted it afterwards - because he never realised it was Lily the prophesy was referring to. All the time that Severus had been protecting Harry, had that been for Lily too?  
He sighed, “the time I spent with Lily as a friend are the only really happy memories I have, I’ve never forgiven myself for what I said to her, I doubt I ever will. I was responsible for her death too and that will hang over me till I die.”  
Hermione, despite the shock she had received over the fact that Severus Snape had been in love with, probably still was in love with, Lily Evans Potter, could not let him be so morose. “It wasn’t totally your fault Severus, I know you tried to help, it isn’t your fault that James and Lily put their hope in the wrong person.”  
Severus snorted, “you know, that’s exactly what Albus said to be, years ago. Of course then we were all under the impression that it was Black, not that little wretch of a rat, Pettigrew.”

Hermione sighed, she didn’t want Severus to begin a rant about Pettigrew, she’d heard enough of the damn things from Harry, Ron, Remus and Sirius. While she hated the little rat too, she had no desire to be talking about him all the time.  
“Tell me about your life,” she asked, attempting to move onto a, not happier, but relatively Pettigrew-free topic.  
He tapped his chin thoughtfully, “I found a quote once, I do not remember the author, but it stuck with me, seemed to sum up my life perfectly,” he told her.  
“In life we all have an unspeakable secret, an irreversible regret, an unreachable dream and an unforgettable love.”  
Hermione smiled a little, it was certainly a beautiful quote, filled with happiness, angst and hope all in one, “so what are yours Severus?”  
He turned his face away from her, but the firelight illuminated his face, making her realise just how handsome it could be, despite the tears dripping down the slightly hooked nose, “my irreversible regret is a tie between calling Lily that word and telling the Dark Lord the prophecy. My unreachable dream was building a life with Lily and my unforgettable love was of course Lily - she’s involved in them all. As for my unspeakable secret, well that will have to remain known to me and only me I’m afraid.”

Hermione couldn’t really complain, he’d practically bared his soul to her, she wouldn’t begrudge him a secret. With a little prompting he filled in the gaps for her; his lonely childhood, love of Lily, hate of the marauders, his discovery of Remus’ condition, entry to the Death Eaters, respect of Dumbledore, the friendship with Professor McGonagall that both tried to hide and the endless work he’d done for the Order.  
She listened in awe, she knew of few lives more interesting than Severus’, or more dangerous. So many people had misjudged him and she vowed to herself that once the war was over, as long as she survived of course, she would ensure that the world knew the sacrifices Severus had made to help save the wizarding world.  
She also couldn’t help but feel a little anger towards Dumbledore, for while always had the greater good in mind and had loved Severus like a son, he had sometimes used Severus and been more than harsh on him when he didn’t deserve him. She would be having stern words with that damn portrait as soon as she could find a quiet moment. Of course she didn’t know how to get into the safe - maybe she’d be able to recruit Rabastan to help. 

They both remained quiet after Severus had finished his story - it took a while for Hermione to process the heavy emotional issues Severus had told her about. She wanted to return the trust he had shown her, tell him about her life, though of course she doubted it would compare to his at all. However, she recognised that it was not best to do it after all the emotional baggage they had waded through talking about Severus’ life.  
Her story would wait till another time. She stood to go back to bed, suddenly rather exhausted. Severus appeared to understand where she was going, for he just waved her away with a goodnight, despite the fact that it was actually five in the morning and both of them would have to get up in four hours.  
She was about to move towards her room, but turned back to say one thing to the man who appeared to have lost almost everything, “you say that your story doesn’t have a happy ending, but you have to remember that it isn’t over yet. There’s still plenty of time for you to get that happy ending Severus, it may be late, unconventional and most likely to be imperfect, but it’s still possible. Remember that and keep hope alive.”

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“There’s still plenty of time for you to get that happy ending Severus.”

Hermione’s words were still echoing in his head fifteen minutes after she had left the room and gone back to bed. He’d heard her soft, even breathing five minutes ago and knew she was asleep. He imagined her, sprawled out in that emerald green nightgown - no, he had to stop that train of thought right there. He shouldn’t be thinking about Hermione Granger that way, shouldn’t be thinking that the first name that came to mind when he thought about possible happy endings was hers.  
Hermione Granger was merely interesting to him, that was why he was thinking about her so much - he was certainly not attracted to her in the slightest. He would not think about her silky hair, dazzling smile, understated beauty or … oh fuck it, he was completely screwed.  
Damn you Albus, he thought, none of this would have happened if you’d just stayed alive. And damn the Dark Lord to Hell, where the bloody bastard belongs - who would have thought the Gryffindor golden girl would have been so much trouble.

He still couldn’t quite believe he’d told the girl his life story - he just wanted, no needed, someone to listen, someone to know the truth apart from Albus and Rabastan. She’d taken it all rather well, even the fact that he was in love with her best friend’s mother.  
It was probably her maturity; the girl had always been a hell of a lot more grown up mentally than the two idiots she called best friends. He couldn’t imagine the problems he’d have if Potter heard the story - after all, Albus had told him about Potter trashing his office after Black had fallen into the veil.  
As for her comment about a happy ending still being possible for him, he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t truly know whether he believed he was deserving of a happy ending, not to mention that he had no illusions about the likelihood of his death during the war.  
He used to think he wouldn’t mind it so much - no more annoying brats to teach, no more spy work, no more just going through the motions of living. Still, his time with Granger had made him think that perhaps living wouldn’t be so bad, if she was around - and that was how he knew he was screwed when it came to Hermione Granger.


	7. Rabastan: The Enigma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione learns more about Rabastan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: some of the flashbacks of memories in this chapter may be a little violent, though not too graphic. You may wish to skip over them.

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"We all go a little mad sometimes."  
Norman Bates (played by Anthony Perkins) in Psycho (1960)

Crucio; that was the first spell Rabastan remembered hearing and it didn’t really bode well for a happy upbringing. He’d only been four at the time and he’d watched his father ‘punish’ Rodolphus, who was ten at the time, for not managing to get a spell right first time round.  
Rabastan had learnt three things that day; he should not anger his father, he should always do well and finally, his household was about as screwed up as it gets.  
Many people might say Rabastan was exaggerating, but he knew the truth. While Lucius Malfoy was a sadistic son-of-a-bitch with a penchant for young girls, he never really brought it home and Rabastan knew that Draco Malfoy had escaped the heavy physical punishment that had been present in the Lestrange home, not to mention he had a mother who actually loved him.  
Others might look at Bella, thinking that a twisted woman like that must have had a terrible home, but that wasn’t particularly true. Bellatrix’s parents had been strict on her, Narcissa and Andromeda, but physical punishment was rarely used on females and the angriest Rabastan saw them was when Andromeda had married a muggleborn.  
Then there were the Blacks. Rabastan knew there had never been any mistreatment towards Regulus - his parents had believed the sun shone out of his every orifice. He’d thought Sirius might have suffered physical abuse, but a conversation with Dumbledore, who had been as all-knowing as always, set that straight. Sirius’ parents had preferred to use words and while they could hurt, Sirius was a strong person, especially with his best friends around, not to mention he had escaped his home at sixteen.

Rabastan hated his parents with a passion and was infinitely glad that they were dead and no longer darkening the earth. His father had been a violent, prejudiced, alcoholic maniac with a love of muggle torture. It didn’t matter that muggle hunting had been outlawed, his father captured many and would spend the few hours he was sober down in their Manor’s dungeons torturing the poor people into insanity or death.  
When he was fourteen, Rodolphus started going home from Hogwarts every holiday to join their father in his ‘leisure activities’. When Rabastan turned fourteen he stopped coming home from Hogwarts at Christmas and Easter, using academic excuses and he spent as much of the summer as possible at the homes of less depraved friends.  
His mother was a beautiful and intelligent woman, but that was the problem. Had she been stupid then perhaps it would have been easier, but she was sharp and clever, which, added to her coldness, belief in pureblood superiority and disregard for her younger son, made her a horrible parent.  
Both his father and mother firmly believed that Rodolphus was better - he was the older son after all - and so Rabastan shouldn’t be doing better than his brother. It was a constant contradiction, if Rabastan did well he was punished for trying to overshadow the older son and heir, if he didn’t do so well he was punished for embarrassing the family - he could never win.

Rabastan was both worried and thankful when Rodolphus married Bellatrix. He was worried because the woman, or girl as she was at the time, was already widely known for her fondness for Unforgivables and her slightly deranged state of mind, which was later made even worse by Azkaban.  
However, he was rather thankful as well, since it had been Rodolphus, as the eldest, who married the eldest Black daughter. If Rabastan had been forced into marriage with Bella, he may well have killed himself before the marriage could be completed. As it was, Bellatrix was promised to Rodolphus and Narcissa to Lucius Malfoy. There had been talk of Rabastan being married to Andromeda Black, but that all went down the drain when she eloped. While Rabastan wouldn’t have minded marriage to Andromeda, he was glad she had to opportunity to marry for love and to escape the dark world death eaters lived in.  
He had been hugely disturbed when Bellatrix, who was two years his senior, had approached him just two weeks after her wedding day, in full seduction mode. While Rabastan knew he was easy on the eyes, Bellatrix had Rodolphus and Rabastan knew this was just a strange ploy to get him into direct competition with her brother - she probably thought they’d both serve the Dark Lord better if they were trying to impress her.  
Since Rabastan had no intention of either serving the Dark Lord better, or getting to know Bellatrix intimately, he did the only thing he could think of to stop her and prevent her seeking revenge on him - a memory charm.

Memory charms were in fact complex magic and there was a lot of misconception about them. Many people believed everyone was capable of memory charms, but in fact the only type that any witch or wizard could do was merely the simple version. This tended to be used to confuse opponents so you could get off that important spell or make a quick escape - all it did was mess with the memories of the past few minutes and make it all seem fuzzy in order to distract people. It wore off very quickly and Rabastan always believed it shouldn’t really be classified as a memory charm, more like a befuddlement charm.  
A true memory charm required a lot of concentration and a low level of Legilimancy to ensure a smooth rewrite of memories. The creator of the spell, an official from the Ministry, before it was corrupt of course, had made it so difficult to prevent abuse of the spell - if it had been easy then there would have been no way to stop a rapist from using it to prevent his victims coming forward.  
Some would argue that the obliviate was still there, but no matter how good that spell was, you could always tell when someone had been obliviated, whereas a memory charm, when done correctly, was near impossible to discover.  
Thankfully for Rabastan, he had the mental discipline and Legilimantic training necessary to perform the charm and Bellatrix left him alone after that. He could only be thankful that the Dark Lord didn’t choose to use memory charms, for he had the training to do so, but preferred to rule through terror and kill those no longer of use to him rather than changing their memories.

Rabastan’s friendship with Severus came about through their mutual concerns over what they were getting themselves into with the Death Eaters. They were both in the same year and were marked at the same time, Rabastan because his family would probably have killed him if he hadn’t and Severus in a moment of stupidity after Lily had broken off their friendship.  
When they both realised that the other didn’t like what they were doing, their friendship grew as they shared the reasons they had joined - thus Rabastan was the first to be made aware of Severus’ deep love for Lily Evans. One might think that trusting someone just because they said they regretted the marking was idiotic - after all they could be on the lookout for traitors.  
However, both Rabastan and Severus were Slytherins and they tested each other’s claims with Veritaserum and low-level Legilimancy in their seventh year. Still, neither dared to approach Dumbledore yet and continued on with their Death Eater work, though trying desperately to be involved as little as possible. When Severus had brought the Dark Lord the prophesy, he had believed it would merely be dismissed and was devastated by the identification of Lily and James Potter’s son as the target and their subsequent deaths.

He didn’t like to remember what Severus had been like after Lily’s death, it took weeks for him to stop drinking himself into oblivion every night while Rabastan covered for him to prevent the Dark Lord discovering Severus’ grief.  
Even now, there would be nights where Severus would just drink until he passed out, normally the anniversary of Lily’s death, Halloween. Rabastan would watch as he flinched every time someone said the word ‘mudblood’, a common phrase with the company they unwillingly kept, knowing he was reliving the terrible moment he’d used the word against Lily.  
Some might wonder what sort of a friend Severus was, if Rabastan had tried to help him so much when he had never taken the time to visit Rabastan during the many years he was imprisoned in Azkaban. The truth was, Severus had seen him once before he was placed in Azkaban and Rabastan had made him promise not to visit. Severus had been accused of Death Eater activity himself and despite Dumbledore vouching for him, there was still a lot of suspicion. A visit to a convicted Death Eater wouldn’t have helped, not to mention that their spy work couldn’t be freely spoken about. Rabastan knew Severus had been angry that he couldn’t do anything to help him and that was enough to show that their friendship mattered to him. 

Azkaban had been beyond difficult, despite the fact that, like Sirius Black, Rabastan had known that he was innocent. However, unlike Sirius he was not an animagus and therefore couldn’t transform to stave off the Dementors.  
It still gave him nightmares, remembering the feeling of utter helplessness and hearing the screams that seemed to go on twenty-four hours a day - the Dementors never slept. He never heard screams of terror from Rodolphus or Bellatrix, but there were screams of madness and anger, which were just as bad. The years he spent there were the worst of his life, but in a way they were the best as well, because he was free of the Dark Lord’s hold.  
By the time he was freed, he was emancipated, tired and weak. For most people, an escape or release from Azkaban would signal freedom, for Rabastan it just meant going back to another type of prison, beholden to a madman.  
Despite this, he was infinitely glad to be free of the Dementors, to eat a proper meal again, speak to Severus and start being of help to Dumbledore once more. The Lestranges had, in the Dark Lord’s mind, never forsaken him and gone to prison for their loyalty, so for a while they enjoyed the highest possible favour. This gave Rabastan access to huge amounts of information and allowed him to disseminate it appropriately to the light side without his loyalty being called into question.  
By the time the Dark Lord began to rely on the information he brought and the services he wrought for him to gain favour, Severus had killed Dumbledore and so a spy remained high up in the Dark Lord’s graces.

Before his stint in Azkaban, he had heard of Harry Potter - everyone had, he was the Boy-Who-Lived and who brought down the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters' most hated enemy. He’d also heard of Ron Weasley, or rather the Weasley family, since the death eaters were constantly ranting about the ‘dirty blood traitors’. However, he didn’t hear of the third member of the Golden Trio until his release from Azkaban. He heard about her first from Lucius Malfoy, soon realising that the blonde wizard had a bit of a fixation for the witch but knowing little about her apart from her friendship with Harry Potter.  
He went to Severus, sure that his friend would have plenty of information on one of the Hogwarts students, especially one of the prolific Golden Trio. Severus spoke about her intelligence and dedication to, in his words, her dunderhead friends - Severus did love the word dunderhead, using it to describe nine out of ten of his students. Reading between the insults about Hermione’s know-it-all attitude, bad taste in friends and bushy hair Rabastan realised that his best friend did actually rather admire the girl - he always gave credit when credit was due in regards to intelligence. 

He also told Severus about how Lucius Malfoy seemed a little too interested in Hermione Granger for someone who barely knew her. Severus’ eyes had flashed and Rabastan had chuckled inwardly - he cared about the girl a lot more than he let on. He was also a little worried by Lucius’ disturbing obsession with a muggleborn teenage girl, and so was Rabastan for that matter. Despite his faults Lucius could be a formidable opponent and while he wasn't as twisted as the Dark Lord, Rodolphus or Bella, he had his own brand of sick amusement and despite not even knowing the girl yet Rabastan didn’t want Hermione to be part of that.  
Severus spoke with Dumbledore and, since the old wizard knew his death would soon come to pass, he urged both Rabastan and Severus to watch over Hermione, especially, he said, when she found herself prisoner in the Dark Lord’s headquarters. He reminded both of them of how important this one girl could be to the war and since both men desperately wish to escape service to the maniac they call master, both agreed readily. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione was buried in research when Rabastan arrived in Severus’ rooms, both literally and figuratively. Rabastan could just about see the crown of her curly hair and hear her murmurs as she made notes from the texts surrounding her. He made his way over to her and she smiled as she spotted him, taking the hand he offered to help pull herself up and picking her way through the dozens of books to sit on one of the armchairs next to him.  
“Where’s Severus,” he asked, “gone to do our master’s bidding has he?”  
She nodded and Rabastan noted the worried look on her face - it was sweet that she cared, despite the fact that Severus would likely chastise her for doing so and remind her that he could very well take care of himself.  
“He said he’d be gone most of the day and that I should continue researching and not answer the door.”  
She spoke the last part with a small pout, not particularly pleased at how Severus had addressed her like a child - she bloody knew not to open the door in Voldemort’s headquarters, she wasn’t that stupid. Rabastan just chuckled at her expression, it had been so long since he’d had some amusement and, despite the situation she was in, Mia never failed to make him laugh.

They sat in relative quiet for a while, Hermione continuing her research while Rabastan picked up one of the tomes and flicked through it, mentioning a useful comment to Hermione every now and then for her to jot down in her notebook.  
He hadn’t come down to Severus’ quarters for any particular reason, but he had a free afternoon and it was nice to spend time with people who knew the real him, rather than the Death Eater persona he put on for the rest of the world. Hermione reminded him that there was still hope in the world and he liked that feeling.  
When Hermione’s soft voice broke the silence Rabastan was rather surprised by her question, “why do they all say you’re mad Rabastan? They say your brother and Bellatrix are, I can see that, but how can you fake madness?”  
Rabastan sighed, he’d known this question was likely to come up sooner or later and she deserved an answer, “I am a little mad Mia, that’s the truth, I don‘t need to fake it really.”

Hermione’s eyes widened and for a moment Rabastan thought he’d lost one of the two true friends he had - was she disgusted by his mental state? He was pleasantly surprised when her lips quirked into a shy smile, “it’s ok Rabastan, I think we’re all a little mad inside, your madness is just a bit more noticeable - was it Azkaban that did it?”  
He pondered for a moment, “partially,” he told her, “but it began long before that, when I was a child really, perhaps even before.”  
“How is that possible,” she asked, a little confused, “something inherited?”  
He grinned, “in a way Mia, it was in fact simply inbreeding. Pureblood families usually wish to only marry pureblood to keep their bloodlines ‘clean’ and since there are so few left our families tend to intermarry - hundreds of years ago it could be cousins who marry, nowadays it tends to be second or third cousins, now we know the danger of marrying such close relatives. However, the damage was already done - most pureblood families have cases of varying levels of madness; Bellatrix and Rodolphus are some of the more extreme cases, they’re pretty insane. I’m one of the milder cases, like Lucius Malfoy - his ‘madness’ manifests itself as obsession, but we won’t go into that right now.”  
He didn’t want to worry her with the information that Lucius Malfoy’s obsession for the past six years had been her - no need to worry her incessantly yet.

“So a combination of inbreeding and Azkaban - but do you hide it around me, because I never thought you were the slightest bit mad.”  
Rabastan shrugged, “I don’t really deliberately try to hide it, though I wouldn’t really want you to see me at my worst. No, you make me feel better and more lively, so it’s just less likely to show around you.”  
He paused a moment before muttering under his breath, “besides, Severus would likely kill me if I started frightening you.”  
He hadn’t meant for her to hear him, but from the curious look on her face, he had spoken a little louder than intended. Knowing her inquisitive nature, he changed the subject quickly, for fear that she would ask why Severus would be worried about her - it wouldn’t do any good for his best friend to kill him for revealing his concern to Mia.  
“So Mia, I guess you’re curious about what precisely makes me a little mental,” he asked cheerfully, trying very hard to make light of what was actually a rather serious situation.”  
She nodded, her thirst for knowledge and understanding clear on her face, though it was tinged with what appeared to be concern for his welfare - he had to smile, people rarely cared about him, it wasn’t the Death Eater way.

“I suppose it can most easily be described as flashes - moments, minutes sometimes, perhaps hours, where I’m not quite there. I tend to be silent and melancholy, hyped up and excited or angry and dangerous. The first is ok, I’m fairly quiet around anyone who isn’t you or Severus anyway, and if it gets too bad then I can hide away in my room. The second is the most amusing because it tends to annoy the hell out of Severus, who has a bit of an aversion to happiness. Still, in that mood I have to keep away from the death eaters if possible because they’d start to wonder.”  
He paused for a moment, “it’s the final mood that is the most dangerous and the most helpful rolled into one. I can be deadly in that mood, so I try to stay away from people I actually care about because its when I’m at my most unbalanced. It’s useful because I do my death eater duties better in that mood because I feel less guilt at the time - I could cut down an innocent child and not feel a thing. Of course, the guilt after those episodes is terrible, I tend to drink myself into oblivion and Severus has to keep me company to make sure I’m ok.”  
Hermione winced; she hated the knowledge that both Severus and Rabastan had to do so many terrible things in order to keep their positions secure. She was hit with a wave of anger against many of the Order who underestimated Severus’ (and Rabastan’s though they didn’t know it) worth, only seeing the Death Eater they had to be. Few of them ever saw the anguish the two men felt at the unspeakable actions they had committed in order to show loyalty so they could continue feeding information to the light side. She immediately resolved to give the entire Order a good talking to as soon as she saw the next and they knew Severus and Rabastan’s true loyalties - they were probably the biggest heroes of all.

Rabastan watched Hermione for a moment, as a dozen emotions flitted across her face. She saw his questioning gaze and smiled a little before lowering the Occlumency shields she always kept up and allowing Rabastan to glimpse her thoughts. He was glad, for he would never have been able to break her barriers, especially since even the Dark Lord had failed. He watched in her mind as the different emotions passed by, happy at her acceptance and both amused, touched and grateful for the anger she felt on his and Severus’ behalf. Rabastan cared little about what most wizards and witches thought about him, but he found it almost unbearable to have someone he trusted have a bad opinion of him and Hermione’s understanding and acceptance of him how he was made him extremely happy.  
Hermione might not be quite as jaded as he and Severus were, but she’d had her fair share of difficult experiences and was by no means naïve, therefore he knew she understood what he had done and yet still remained. Despite what Severus said about her over-eager attitude, Rabastan knew that Mia was quick to learn and that she would generally refrain from asking awkward questions, knowing when to comfort or leave a topic alone.

Rabastan also knew that Hermione, unlike many of her peers, was incredibly mature, even more so than many adults. He would not feel comfortable revealing his mental problems to many people, but he’d known Mia could handle it and so he’d given her the truth, not even attempting to sugar-coat it, when she has asked him. This was war and there was no point in trying to make things sound better in order to keep people happy, that attitude was exactly why Cornelius Fudge, who was, in Rabastan’s opinion, a first class idiot, was now out of office.  
Despite the cheerful demeanour that Rabastan often adopted around Hermione, he was Severus’ friend and had picked up a few of his mannerisms, such as an intolerance for stupidity - he doubted he’d like Mia nearly as much if she were stupid, though if that were the case she would likely not even be at the Dark Lord’s headquarters in the first place. 

Rabastan soon realised that he had probably taken up a bit more of Hermione’s time than he had intended. Knowing that she would never try and kick it out - would consider it the height of rudeness - he decided to take his leave before time flew by and she ended up with Severus annoyed at her lack of productivity. Rabastan knew that even if he said it was his fault, the surly man would still blame Mia and he didn’t want trouble for her.  
“I better go Mia, don’t want Severus getting pissed at me because I took up all the time you were supposed to be researching in.”  
She laughed lightly, “well I doubt you’d be the one he’d get annoyed with - I’m sure he’d see it as me wasting my own time by drawing you into conversation in order to satisfy my nosy tendencies.”  
Rabastan laughed now, “people always say Severus is impossible to read, but you’ve got his angle just right. Still, I shall not delay you any longer Mia, I’m sure you have much better things to do that talk to me.”  
She smiled at him, “you underestimate yourself Rabastan, you’re a fascinating conversationalist, but yes, I suppose I should get back to my work - not that it’s really getting me very far.”  
She leant up to kiss him goodbye on the cheek and he grinned down at her, his six foot three frame towering over her petite five foot five one. “Never despair Mia, you’ll find something in the end - with you and Severus on the job, the Dark Lord doesn’t stand a chance.”  
He shot her another smile, ruffled her hair affectionately and disappeared out of the door, leaving her to her research.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rabastan barely made it back to his room before the depression washed over him like a tidal wave - so it was going to be one of those nights was it. He had felt what he called a ‘fit’ or ‘mood’ coming on while in Severus’ rooms and had quickly made an excuse to Mia, not wanting her to see him like this - she might know now, might even understand, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to witness him so despondent.  
He was just glad he hadn’t done anything too terrible for the Dark Lord recently, as this was the worst sort of ‘fit’ to have after inflicting a lot of pain. Another wave of despair hit him, along with a dizziness that sent him hurrying to his bed to lie down and try to stop the world spinning.  
He knew the memories would begin to overwhelm him soon so he quickly summoned his dreamless sleep potion - there was no point in taking it now as the memories would persist, but afterwards he would need it and likely his hands would be shaking too much to summon him then. A wave of pain then, something he had been confused about when he was younger, but now knew was a physical manifestation of the mental pain he felt. 

The memories began with a vengeance and Rabastan just tried to lay back, to take them as they came and try not to break - experience had taught him that was the only way;

A muggle family lay on the floor in the centre of the room, huddled together and crying. The father was dead at the centre, covered in blood and his face a mass of bruises - Rabastan was just relieved that Greyback hadn’t been brought in. The man’s wife was alternating between weeping over her husband’s dead corpse and holding her two children, a boy and girl about nine and six respectively, close to her. Rabastan watched as the woman was torn from her family and handed over to Lucius Malfoy to be brutally raped and then killed in front of her two terrified children.  
Rabastan chanced a glance at Severus and saw his face, an impassive, cold mask to the rest of the Death Eaters, but hiding a deep regret for the lives lost. Rabastan couldn’t bear to have the children killed in such a brutal fashion and so he asked the Dark Lord if he could take them to his chamber for his ‘amusement’. To his great relief, the snake-faced bastard agreed, since Rabastan had just completed an important mission successfully, and so he took the two petrified children to his chambers, locking the door and turning to face them. Severus had entered five minutes later and the two, not wishing the children to remain traumatised, had placed memory charms on them so they would forget the night’s events and taken them to Dumbledore, who was able to find them a home abroad - no need to tempt fate by keeping them in England.  
Despite saving the lives of the children, Rabastan never forgave himself for their parents' deaths, just as he never forgave himself for every death he was unable to prevent.

\-----------------

He was in what he had un-affectionately named his ‘Rodolphus’ mood - the violent, angry part of him that didn’t care what he did, as long as he caused pain. They had a hoard of muggles and muggleborns at the revel that night and Rabastan was cursing left right and centre, painful and lingering spells designed to cause the maximum possible pain to the victim.  
It took the screams of a teenage girl as she bled to death to pull him out of it, and by then it was much too late, most of his victims were beyond help. So he did the only thing he could and used Avada Kedavra on each one as quickly as possible. He told the Dark Lord it was because he was bored of them, but in reality he wanted to end the pain he had caused as quickly as possible so he could get out of there and drink himself into oblivion to try and forget.

More memories flooded him, each more painful than the next. Rabastan writhed on his bed, holding his head, eyes streaming with tears as he screamed at his brain to stop torturing him so.  
As the memories slowly petered out an hour later, Rabastan was almost unrecognisable from the cheery man who’d spoken to Hermione. He was shivering and shaking as he came back to reality and reached out blindly for his dreamless sleep potion, refusing to open his eyes, should he see the dead in front of him, as he sometimes did as his memories faded away.  
As he clumsily un-stoppered the bottle and took a deep drink from it, he wondered if Severus would ever manage to find a potion that could prevent his ‘episodes’, because he would probably worship the wizard if he did.  
Still, he remembered what Mia had said and managed to force a little smile onto his face - he wasn’t so different from everyone else, after all, "we all go a little mad sometimes."


	8. Hermione: Fight For Your Rights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit about Hermione's life pre-Hogwarts, and her thoughts on her current situation

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“Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself.”   
Harvey Fierstein

Hermione had always been an unusual child, you could say that about any child who was reading Shakespeare at six - not that there were many children like that in the world. One would figure that as an only child, Hermione would have been spoiled beyond belief and given every attention possible.   
The truth was a little different - her parents had her when they were in their mid-thirties and already established as popular dentists. Therefore, they had an upper-middle class lifestyle and Hermione had any material thing she could wish for and went to an excellent private school. However, both her parents worked long hours and it was often a childminder that met her from school, a woman she became closer to than her mother in reality.   
Edward and Jean Granger were delighted to have such a child prodigy for a child and encouraged, or rather pushed, Hermione into multiple academic pursuits. While she loved knowledge, it was undoubtedly her parent’s influence that led to some of her less desirable know-it-all tendencies.

Hermione’s bedroom, unlike most young children’s, was neutral rather than overly bright in its colour scheme, with maps and periodic tables filling the walls rather than posters or pictures, and shelves filled with books rather than games. Despite what many people would think, Hermione was not unhappy, though a little lonely in her big home at times, she really did have a genuine love of learning and her parents found themselves hard pressed to get their hands on books fast enough.   
The IQ tests Hermione’s parents insisted on showed her to be in the genius category, much to their delight, and they spent about a week after each test telling all their friends about their delightfully clever daughter.   
However, while her parents and other adults doted on Hermione and her intelligence, except during those occasional jealous bouts parents are prone to when they realise their child is not quite as intelligent as another, Hermione’s peers were another story. Children can often be cruel, especially when another child is a bit different, and Hermione would always remember the teasing, even if she put it behind her.

“Can I play with you?” asked a five year old Hermione, whose tiny face was almost obscured by the large quantity of hair.  
“No,” said the cattiest of the girls in Hermione’s class, “why would we want to play with a bushy haired freak like you.”  
Hermione felt the tears build a little, but she didn’t want to cry in front of these girls, they would just tease more. Instead she just turned and walked away, trying to ignore the calls that came after her; “freak … swot … stuck-up snob … teacher’s pet.”   
She just did as her childminder advised, ignoring them, not giving them a satisfaction of an answer or a reaction. She ended up in the place she always did at break and lunch - the library.

Despite the unpleasant experiences Hermione had with children her own age and older, she did have a way with younger children, surprisingly patient around them, despite her short fuse when it came to incompetence from her own age level. Her parents never asked her why she would spend the free time she wasn’t working in the library reading stories to the toddlers or at the playgroup her childminder helped run.   
The truth was, she liked little children, they were so simple, never trying to hide anything, and Hermione was an firm believer in the idea that babies had the knowledge of the universe in their minds, it just faded as they grew older and began to speak. It was a surprisingly faith based idea for someone brought up by logical, scientific parents, but while Hermione inherited many of those traits, she had her own faith in the impossible, especially after she began exhibiting strange talents and received knowledge of her magical status.   
It was that love of helping young children that really led to her mothering instinct with Harry and Ron. Despite the fact that they were her own age and could sometimes be more than a little stupid, once she got to know them and the three became inseparable she couldn’t help but be reminded of those younger children - Hermione always had been years ahead of her peers and she quickly fell into a mother role with her two best friends. They were grateful for it, despite how annoying it could be, since it had been that mothering that had ensured they did their homework, passed their exams and stayed alive.

Harry and Ron knew nothing much of her life before Hogwarts, nothing about how her childhood had affected her personality and the dynamics of their friendship. She knew they sometimes wondered why she wasn’t more bothered about her lack of friends, though of course they’d never say it out loud. She wasn’t afraid to admit to herself that her only close friends in school were Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna and Neville - she just wasn’t the sort of person who easily made friends with people of her own age. However, she had friends in the Order and truthfully she wasn’t all that bothered - she didn’t care for stupid adolescents or appearance obsessed girls like Parvati and Lavender.   
Hermione was both glad and a little annoyed of the lack of interest in her life before Hogwarts - she did wish her friends cared enough to ask about it, but recognised that many of them had little understanding of the muggle world and would probably just end up being confused.   
Still, she was glad they remained in the dark because she didn’t want to explain the bullying or the loneliness that would likely get the group of hot-headed individuals she called friends all riled up about something that couldn’t be changed. She wouldn’t say she was happy with her childhood, but she coped and she was pretty pleased with the person it had moulded her into and she wouldn’t complain.

She remembered the day she discovered she was a witch with a mix of happiness and sorrow. Professor McGonagall, Hermione later learnt, brought letters personally to new muggleborn students, in order to explain what was happening.   
When Hermione’s letter had arrived in the hands of the professor who would become Hermione’s favourite the first words out of her mother and father’s mouths had been, “this is just nonsense.”   
Hermione, on the other hand, had been a whole lot more receptive to the idea that she was a witch - something her parents had always tried to impress into her was just a myth. But they hadn’t been around to see when a book she’d wanted had just zoomed off the shelf into her hands, hadn’t seen when a boy who had been teasing her had been unable to walk two feet without tripping for almost an hour.   
She knew how difficult it was, they were both dentists, had done scientific subjects for years, and were firmly of the belief that anything magical in nature was a figment of people’s imaginations. Even when Professor McGonagall turned the teacup in front of her into a plate and then transformed into her feline animagus form, much to Hermione’s astonishment and amusement, they still remained sceptical. Hermione, even at the tender age of eleven, thought that was a little stupid of them - they always stressed the importance of evidence and there was Professor McGonagall giving them some right in front of their eyes, yet they refused to believe in magic.  
It had taken another three hours of persuasion from Professor McGonagall until her parents finally believed magic did exist, then another two hours to get them to agree to her going to Hogwarts. The Transfiguration teacher had pulled Hermione aside just before she left and asked if she should ask Albus Dumbledore to visit, to make sure her parents were comfortable with the idea of Hermione going to Hogwarts. After a short description of the headmaster was given Hermione declined, worried he might overwhelm her parents - after seeing him for the first time at the welcoming feast, Hermione was very pleased that she hadn’t asked him to come.

Everyone was under the impression that Hermione had been considered by the Sorting Hat for two houses - Gryffindor, the place for someone who would dare punch Draco Malfoy, fight death eaters and lead Dolores Umbridge into the Forbidden Forest, and Ravenclaw, where someone of her intelligence would thrive academically.   
The truth was, Hermione had been considered for one other house as well - Slytherin. Her status as a muggleborn would have almost assured she was never placed there, but the Hat could not ignore her ambitious personality, as well as her tendency to be occasionally sneaky - the SNEAK curse on Marietta Edgecombe (which, according to gossip, still hadn’t faded completely) anyone.   
Truly, it had been that knowledge that had meant Hermione tended to keep her temper around Draco Malfoy and his group of Slytherin (the punch in third year was a slip-up) - she had been considered for three houses, including Slytherin, so nothing they could say about her not deserving her magic, or even been a typical Gryffindor, which she really wasn’t, could make her lose hope. 

As it was, despite her occasional hidden Slytherin tendencies, Hermione was firmly of the belief that she had been placed in the correct house, despite what people might say. Hermione knew the Sorting Hat was a mix of all four founders - it was in the very first chapter of Hogwarts: A History, and she knew that somehow, the hat had known that Harry would need her, just as she was sure it saw that he would need Ron too, though he was probably destined for Gryffindor anyway.   
There were many times when her friends sheer stupidity made her long for the intellectual challenge of Ravenclaw, or when their pigheadedness and tendency to walk into trouble made her wish Slytherin let muggleborns in (that wish didn’t pop up very often), but when it came down to it, Gryffindor was her house and she would remain loyal to it to the end and that meant she would do anything in her power to help Harry defeat Voldemort.   
Of course, her Gryffindor traits were also what appeared to make her annoying to Severus a lot of the time, something which, to her surprise and confusion, made her feel rather sad. But she shrugged it off as guilt for being a nuisance to the wizard who had saved her from unspeakable horror at the hands of one of Voldemort’s loyal servants - it couldn’t possibly be anything else.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Hermione had faced her Boggart during the third year DADA assault course it was not Professor McGonagall telling her she failed that she saw in front of her - Hermione would freely admit to being scared of failing, but at the time, and really any time onwards, it was not her principle fear. She did not see Voldemort, at that time she didn’t know what he looked like and he wasn’t as big a threat as he was once he gained a corporeal body in their fourth year. It hadn’t even been a Dementor, which Remus had described to Harry as wise - fearing fear itself.   
Hermione knew her fear came very close to being the dead bodies of Harry and Ron lying at Sirius Black’s feet (obviously they didn’t know Sirius was innocent yet), but fear of death had not begun to totally sink in yet, it didn’t really until fourth or fifth year with Cedric’s death and Sirius falling through the veil.   
No, Hermione’s fear was the loss of the world she currently lived in - she saw herself unable to perform magic, unable to find Hogwarts and no longer surrounded by Harry, Ron and Ginny. That was, and still was really, no matter how dangerous things got, her worst and most terrible fear.   
Some might say it could have been better had she had no magic, for she would never be caught in a war where her death could come at any moment. But they didn’t realise that this magical world had given Hermione the best, and only really, friends she’d ever had, and a place somewhere where she wasn’t considered strange for her unusual talents. She wouldn’t give that up for anything, even the promise that she would live. 

Fourth year, now there was an experience, really the first time that Voldemort had been a real figure to them; first year had been about suspicion of Snape and Voldemort as a shadow of his former self, second year was Tom Riddle, the Basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets, while third year had been taken up by worries of Sirius Black. Voldemort regaining a corporeal form should have been a good thing for the Order - proof that He really was back and looking to finish what he started.   
Of course, the Ministry being the corrupt and idiotic body it was had decided to make things worse by not only ignoring everything Dumbledore and Harry said, but by putting the latter on trial just for defending himself and sending Umbridge - the biggest bigoted cow that ever existed - to teach, or rather not teach, them Defence Against The Dark Arts.   
Hermione loved Hogwarts, but her fifth year was one she wished she could mostly erase from her memories. Sure, there were some good moments; time with the Order at Grimmauld Place before school began, DA meetings and her friends. Still, it was outweighed by the time spent in Professor Umbridge’s company - she was pretty sure her brain cells started to die with all that sickly fake sweetness - not to mention Marietta Edgecombe’s betrayal of the DA and the battle at the Department of Mysteries where they lost Sirius.   
The only half decent thing that came out of that disastrous trip to the Ministry was the revelation that Voldemort’s return was the truth, but Hermione still didn’t think it had been worth losing Sirius over, despite his recent return.

Sixth year had seemed so much quieter after their previous years, it was like an interlude, a time for them to explore teenage hormones and be a little more suspicious of Malfoy than usual. Harry was slowly, very slowly, getting over Sirius’ fall through the veil and Hermione was going through a rollercoaster of emotion around Ron which she had recently concluded was jealousy over the fact that he had a significant other, rather than jealousy of Lavender herself, though the girl really was a bit of an airhead.   
It had been a little bit like having a chance to actually be a teenager, despite the war around them and the occasional return to reality by way of terrible news reports. Hermione couldn’t help but think back to the debacles involving Ron and Cormac with mortification - she’d been so petty and stupid, obviously taking leave of her usual senses.   
Of course, the whole situation had also meant she wasn’t nearly as observant as usual, only figuring out the mutual attraction between Harry and Ginny a few days before they did themselves - in normal circumstances she would have realised it months in advance.   
At the end of the year, when she realised that she should have paid more attention to Harry’s suspicion of Malfoy and was trying to deal with Dumbledore’s death, she realised she would have to put away her own mess of feelings and focus entirely on helping Harry defeat Voldemort - that was the most important thing.

She had done just that, locking away her emotional turmoil away, though thankfully her feelings over Ron were fading (the ones for Cormac had been non-existent to begin with). Once she had privately shed her tears over Dumbledore’s sudden death, she had calmly summoned the Horcrux books from his office before anyone had a chance to enter and had packed them to take away from Hogwarts, knowing, though Harry had not explicitly said yet, that she wouldn’t be returning to Hogwarts the next school year. Then it was a whir of planning and packing for the trip she, Harry and Ron were planning to take to search for Horcruxes. It had all been going well until Dumbledore told Harry to tell the rest of the Order about Horcruxes, which he did.   
Of course this meant that the adults didn’t want the three of them going off on their own, which had been the reason they were almost glad Dumbledore had previously told them not to reveal the situation to others. However, Harry, finally taking control of the situation, had told all the Order in no uncertain terms that they would do things the way he wanted, since the Horcrux search was left first and foremost in his hands. Eventually he was persuaded to allow the Order to help, with Sirius and Remus possibly going with them. She knew that would likely happen now and understood why Dumbledore had spoken to Harry - he had obviously known what was going to happen to Hermione. 

She tried not to think about Harry, Ron and all her other friends in the Order if possible, but there were so many questions she wanted to know the answers to; had they destroyed any Horcruxes yet? How were they doing? Was Ginny back at Hogwarts with Luna, Neville and their other friends?   
She supposed Severus might know the answer to the last question, or at least have the means to find out, but she didn’t want to annoy him or get him in trouble because people were wondering why he was pandering to the mudblood’s questions. Severus never gave any indication of knowledge of Harry or Ron’s whereabouts, but since he never mentioned anything to her during their research or the evenings they spent quietly reading then Voldemort must surely have no news of them.   
If he’d managed to capture anyone from the Order then surely he would have dragged her up there to torture her with the sight of a friend in trouble. Therefore, she had to conclude that while she had no idea about the progress the boys were making, she could be almost totally sure that they were at least safe at the moment. She could only hope they would remain that way until she and Severus could work out a way to help them.   
Hermione had resolved to only ponder on the situation of her friends at night - she didn’t want to interrupt the important research she and Severus were doing because she was too busy moping. At night she was normally exhausted and so her brain only allowed her to think about the fate of the Order for a little while before she was lost to sleep - it was a system that was working quite well for her. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione was working quietly on the location of a possible Horcrux - Hufflepuff’s golden cup - when Severus came in from a meeting with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He looked very drained and Hermione felt the sudden urge to go over and comfort him. She was a little confused and unsure about such a feeling - sure she liked him, respected him as an excellent teacher, brilliant mind and the wizard who had essentially saved her from the horrors the Death Eaters could have inflicted on her.   
But she had never really felt the warm sensation in her heart on seeing him that she did now and she was very much confused. Hermione knew an awful lot about magic and all subjects academic, but she was not yet well versed in the ideas of romance and love and was therefore unsure about what she was feeling.   
Hermione was never really one to act without first considering every possibility and analysing the action ten times over in her head (at least most of the time) and so she decided to remain quiet on the subject of her feelings until she was quite sure about what it was she was actually feeling. Therefore, as Severus came and sat down next to her, asking what she’d found out in a voice that managed to sound both totally irresistible and yet a little unconcerned and bored at the same time, she merely answered in a tone just as blasé, though a lot less irresistible.   
“Well I’ve narrowed down the location of Hufflepuff’s cup to three places, though we aren’t yet sure if it's even a Horcrux.”

She hated saying that word - she knew words shouldn’t have power over people, that’s why she always said Voldemort, or at least she had until her social calendar began to include only Severus and Rabastan, who couldn’t bear to hear ‘Voldemort’ spoken out loud. She still referred to him as such in her head, but she referred to him as the Dark Lord in the two wizard’s presence because she felt it the least she could do after what they had done for her.   
But she was going off on a tangent, a slightly negative quality Severus often liked to remind her of, though she had heard him mention it to Rabastan as rather endearing (she wasn’t quite sure she’d been supposed to hear that conversation).   
She hated Horcruxes, to her they represented the darkest magic, the reason Voldemort had managed to survive so long - the reason so many had suffered and died. When Voldemort defeated (she was in an optimistic mood today) she would ensure that any book she could get her hands on with the word Horcrux anywhere would be burnt as soon as possible - that was saying a lot about her hatred of the word, Hermione was an avid book lover and would never destroy one without excellent reason. There was also the small fact that every time they had to speak of Horcruxes, Severus’ face twisted into a grimace and he wasn’t nearly as amiable as normal (not that he was that amiable anyway).

She gave her research report, highlighting the three possible areas for the golden cup; Hogwarts, Hufflepuff’s ancestral home and the Lestrange vault in Gringotts. Severus nodded at the reasoning for each one, quickly eliminating the idea of Hogwarts and the ancestral home by saying that he had reason to believe that it was a different Horcrux at the school and that Helga’s ancestral home was near impenetrable. Rabastan, being a Lestrange, could attest to the fact that there was a golden cup in the family vault and that Bellatrix and Rodolphus had boasted to him about being honoured above all Voldemort’s servants by being entrusted with one of his most precious possessions.   
Of course, they knew Bellatrix had no idea that the cup in her vault contained a part of her master’s soul, Severus and Rabastan’s knowledge of Voldemort’s character, along with the extensive information Dumbledore had gathered before his death meant they knew he was unlikely to trust anyone, even his loyalist servants, with the information of exactly how far he had gone to obtain immortality.   
Few knew what Horcruxes were and Hermione was sure that Voldemort was likely worried that his servants would wish to create some themselves, thus making themselves immortal and a threat to his power. Hermione could almost laugh at the thought of it, so many of Voldemort’s servants, especially those like Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Lucius Malfoy thought themselves most important, most loyal, most indispensable to Voldemort, but really none of them knew his closest secrets and if they thought they were special or important to him then they were kidding themselves. Voldemort was after their money, influence and talent, once they lost their use then their power would be gone, or they would die - it was really something they should have thought twice about getting involved in.

Once Severus had decided to look into possible ways to get the information about Hufflepuff’s cup to Harry, he spoke a little longer with her about the remaining Horcruxes. They knew that Harry had destroyed the diary back in second year and that Dumbledore had destroyed the ring in the summer after fifth year. They had worked out the cup, while Severus and Rabastan had concluded that Nagini was also a Horcrux.   
That left the real version of the fake locket Harry still had from the cave and one other item, which Hermione was beginning to think was likely something of Rowena Ravenclaw’s. Despite the magnificence of Severus’ library, he didn’t have that much on the four founders - that was the forte of the Hogwarts Library. Since both Severus and Rabastan were fugitives and Hermione was not really able to turn up at Hogwarts (children of loyal Death Eaters would see and her friends would take her back, resulting in trouble for Severus) they were unable to find much reference to any of Rowena’s possessions and were therefore at a dead end in regards to that Horcrux. She knew Severus was a little irritated at the wall they appeared to have hit, but she also knew he wouldn’t rest until they found a solution to the problem - somehow they would get access to Hogwarts library.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“How did you cope with it all?”   
Hermione looked at Severus with confusion, his question implied he was wondering about something that had happened to her and was worried - that in itself seemed strange.   
He seemed to understand that she wanted him to clarify, “what I mean is how did you cope with the teasing, the ridicule you had to put up with on a daily basis.”   
He took a breath, “when I said that word to Lily it shattered our friendship, yet you dealt with it from Draco Malfoy for years and yet are one of the few people who truly believe he deserves another chance.”   
Hermione looked at him for a moment, “have you ever heard of Eleanor Roosevelt?” she asked him, smiling when he nodded, “of course you have, you do seem to know everything.”   
She detected the hint of a smirk and blushed when she realised what a huge compliment she’d given him, despite the fact that his vast knowledge was obvious.   
“Eleanor Roosevelt said that no one can make you feel inferior without your permission. I discovered that quote in a book when I was seven years old and it's been my motto ever since. I always used to think of it when the kids in my primary school class bullied me for being a swot, it made me realise that their opinion only mattered if I wanted it to - since I saw them as a bunch of silly, immature children then I didn’t take their words to heart.”

She paused for a moment, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “Draco Malfoy often made it his mission to make me feel inferior to him and other purebloods, because that was what he believed I was. I didn’t want him to do so and therefore I refused to listen to obviously baseless accusations. If you looked closely at what he was saying to me, you’d realise that it was honestly just a load of shit. I’ll admit that what he sometimes said to Harry and Ron was correct, they could be lazy idiots at times and the whole Harry, Draco, Sectumsempra spell thing was definitely a bad move on Harry’s part - even Malfoy didn’t deserve that.”   
She watched as he nodded his head fiercely, he probably still hadn’t got over Harry getting hold of his old potions book. “However, what he says to me is just ridiculous - most of the time he either spouts rubbish about the fact that I have two muggle parents or goes on about my swotty, know-it-all status. The truth is, his insults are unoriginal and not even that insulting, you’d think that after six years he would have found some new material and the fact that those two things, and occasionally my appearance, which is really down to nature, are the only things he comments on tells me he’s not worth the effort. I’m proud of my muggle heritage and my attitude to work and school - ergo I don’t give a damn what some ferret faced, stuck-up pureblood thinks.” 

She was a little shocked, but also amused when Severus actually chuckled after her little tirade, “I can honestly say that was one of the best turnarounds of bullying I’ve ever seen. I can only really compare it to … compare it to Lily - she was always brilliant at standing up to bullies like Lucius and Bella and turning their insults back on them. You are probably right about Draco, after all if what he said in your little dungeon chat is true then he never really had a problem with you and was just resorting to staple insults in order to please his father.”   
She gave him a dazzling smile, forgetting the fact that she usually avoided such blatant displays of emotion because of his seeming dislike of them in the happiness of his compliment. When she came back to herself and realised what she’d done she looked at him, eyes wide and a little scared.  
She was pleased when he just shook his head with a small smile, “you are certainly a most interesting woman Hermione,” he told her and she grinned internally at his use of her first name and description of her as a woman rather than a girl.   
He pulled a book from the teetering pile next to him and handed it to her, “here, I think you’ve done enough work for today and I know you’ve read this but it is a classic and every girl loves a brooding hero, relax a little and we’ll get back to work tomorrow.”   
He pressed her shoulder gently and went into his own room - she was sort of glad as she was beaming like an idiot at this unexpected kindness. She turned the book over and saw the title, Pride and Prejudice \- brooding hero, Darcy of course. She smiled as she went to her own room and settled on her bed to read, subconsciously replacing the Colin Firth model of Darcy she saw in her head ever since she watched the TV series with a man who looked suspiciously like Severus Snape.


	9. Dark Tomes & Allies

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“dulce bellum inexpertis”   
(War is sweet to those who have never fought)

“Don’t touch that book Hermione.”   
The girl in question looked at Severus’ features, which betrayed a slight worry not normally found in his face, “I don’t know how that book ended up there, it’s a dark text that will curse any muggleborn trying to read it - as a half-blood I can only access certain parts, only Rabastan, as a pureblood, can read the whole thing.”   
Hermione backed away from the book she’d been about to pick up, watching Severus as he picked it up gingerly and placed it into one of his cabinets. Severus had so many dark texts and when she thought about the Black Library at Grimmauld Place she realised that must have had some as well, especially considering most of the family’s obsession with the dark arts. She supposed Sirius and Remus must have removed all the dangerous texts when they were getting the house ready for visitors - Remus especially had known her love of reading and that she would likely spend a lot of time in the library.   
She hoped Sirius hadn’t destroyed all the dark books in one of his fits of anger during their fifth year - both he and Ron were pureblood and could therefore read them all safely and they could be very useful for the Horcrux hunt. Of course, thinking about her friends tended to depress her so she tuned back in to what Severus was saying, grinning inwardly at the fact that she’d even dared to stop listening properly at all.

“I still haven’t been able to find anything about Ravenclaw’s heirlooms, we really need some texts from Hogwarts library for that - hopefully we’ll find some soon, I’ve put a plan in motion that will hopefully get us some books.”   
She really wanted to ask what the plan was, but the look on his face made it plain that he wasn’t going to tell her yet and so she decided not to waste her time. Instead she picked up another book, turning the cover round so Severus could check it was safe. When he nodded his head she flicked it open and began to read, soon becoming engrossed with the story of how Dumbledore defeated Gellert Grindelwald. She knew the basic story, everyone in the wizarding world did, but the book gave a much more detailed, analytical account and Severus hoped it might give them ideas on how to destroy Voldemort.   
Hermione didn’t see why they couldn’t just ask Dumbledore about the battle, after all the man, well portrait, seemed to have a photographic memory and surely it would be more useful hearing it from the wizard who had actually defeated Grindelwald rather than a book. When she’d put the question to Severus he had just raised one eyebrow sardonically and said that he had to listen to Albus rambling on enough as it was and he didn’t need to get him started on the defeat of Grindelwald, the book was quite good enough for their uses and they didn’t need a load of pointless anecdotes. She’d left the subject alone after that. 

Severus sat down on a chair opposite her with a book on muggle warfare in his hands (they were looking at all avenues to defeat Voldemort), but she soon forgot his presence as she found herself drawn into the account of Dumbledore and Grindelwald’s famous battle - the author was brilliant at making it seem like the reader was actually there and Hermione was totally enthralled.   
She was pulled from her reverie when Severus spoke, “Hermione, this idea of psychological warfare is intriguing, but it only mentions it, would you explain in more detail.”   
There was no ‘please’, with Severus there very rarely was, but she knew how difficult it was to admit he didn’t know something, even about the muggle world, and so she forgave the lack of politeness and answered him.   
“Psychological warfare is various techniques used by any set of groups, and aimed to influence a target audience's value systems, belief systems, emotions, motives, reasoning, or behaviour. It is used to induce confessions or reinforce attitudes and behaviours favourable to the originator's objectives, and are sometimes combined with black operations or false flag tactics. Target audiences can be governments, organizations, groups, and individuals.”   
Severus rolled his eyes, “yes Hermione, thank you for the dictionary definition, but how do you think we could use such tactics to demoralise the Dark Lord and his forces?” 

“No need to get whiny Severus - there are a few ways we could use psychological warfare to our advantages, one being the spreading of rumours that the Order have some sort of secret weapon, though we would have to be subtle. Also, we should probably avoid any mention that the Horcruxes are known of or he’ll likely increase security and we’ll never be able to get near them. We could also take out some of the Death Eaters, which might spread worry about the ranks, though that’s more a mix of physical and psychological warfare. Personally, I think we should leave the latter option for a while and stick to rumours to start with, they can be most effective.”   
Severus nodded thoughtfully, “I believe you are probably right Hermione, I shall talk it over with Rabastan and I suppose Albus as well to see what they think. If they are agreeable then hopefully we can soon begin implementing it into our plans.”   
Hermione nodded and then buried her head back in her book, it really was a fascinating read and despite the enjoyment she got from occasionally staring at Severus a little longer than necessary, the book was more interesting right now, not to mention more useful in trying to destroy Voldemort.

They read in silence for an hour or two, the only sound the scratching of quills as one or the other paused in their reading to scribble down some notes on one of the many sheaves of parchment piled around the room. Of course everything incriminating was charmed to look like research on how to destroy Harry Potter in case Voldemort or any of his goons decided to check up on them, but most of the information was safe as it could be used as research for destroying either Harry or Voldemort.   
Hermione was very thankful that the only person to visit Severus’ quarters so far had been Rabastan and she wondered how they had wrangled it so he was the one to check up on their progress each time. Still, she knew the luck would likely run out some time and she only hoped she was prepared to face a true Death Eater when the time came. She didn’t even look up when she heard Severus stand, put his book down and leave the room - she was used to him coming and going as he pleased and was comfortable enough now not to feel awkward alone in his apartments.

She was still reading when he came back half an hour later with Rabastan in tow. He stalked straight through the room, she presumed he was going to discuss the idea of psychological warfare with Dumbledore and didn’t feel offended by his rudeness in not greeting her, it was customary for him. Rabastan stopped for a moment to say hi and inquire about how her research was going before he followed Severus to speak to Dumbledore too.   
Hermione ignored the slightly raised voices coming from the other room a few minutes later - Severus always seemed to find something to argue about with Dumbledore when they had a conversation, Hermione thought he did it just for the sake of it and because he didn’t like to admit actually getting on well with the now deceased headmaster.   
When he returned to the sitting room with Rabastan, he had an content look on his face, while Rabastan was grinning, “well Mia, Albus is all for the psychological warfare, not that it would have stopped Severus if he’d been against it, we’ve got plans to implement it into our scheme almost immediately.”

Hermione tilted her head questionably, “and are you planning on sharing how you are going to do that or are we going to have to play a guessing game?”   
Rabastan laughed, “now there’s an idea,” but was cut off by Severus’ scowl, “we don’t have time for this Rabastan, we have places to be so hurry up and explain.”   
Rabastan pouted like a child, but didn’t dare make any more jokes and dove straight in with the story, “Severus contacted a member of the Order,” he told her, “they were understandably sceptical but since the letter involved a type of unbreakable vow they have agreed to meet him and discuss things. You and I will both be going along, though the Order member does not know this, I’m going to finally reveal my true allegiances and you are going because we know you’d like to see one of your friends, but also because your presence will also make things more likely to go smoothly.”  
Hermione’s eyes widened, a member of the Order, she would get to see one of her friends, she was so happy. She didn’t know what came over her but she threw herself at Rabastan, who returned to hug with a smile, and then also at Severus, who appeared at a loss for words but actually squeezed her gently before pulling away.

Her face flushed red as she realised what she had just done, but since Rabastan was grinning and Severus wasn’t shouting she knew they weren’t bothered.   
In a blatant attempt to get back to the topic they’d previously been discussing Hermione spoke in an upbeat voice, “so, who are we meeting?”   
Severus chuckled at her enthusiasm, “you’ll just have to wait and see Hermione, I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise for you.”   
Hermione gaped - was Severus actually teasing her?   
She turned to Rabastan, but he shook his head before she even spoke, “don’t even ask Mia, Severus is one scary wizard and I’m not going against him. Anyway, surprises are fun are they not?”   
Hermione scowled playfully, muttering something under her breath about annoying wizards and how she didn’t bloody well like surprises. It was a few minutes later that she realised she’d been laughing and joking with Severus of all people - it was normal with Rabastan, but Severus was normally so stoic and reserved, she liked this little look into his slightly more playful personality. 

Hermione was a little worried about how Severus and Rabastan were planning on springing her from Voldemort’s headquarters without him noticing, but the two soon put her mind at rest. Since neither wizard had any plans they could merely pretend they were off doing their own thing with everyone else unaware. It would take a small army a considerable amount of time to break down Severus’ wards and there were alarms which meant he would be alerted if someone was trying to enter so he could return.   
Both had mentioned the likelihood that the Order member they would be meeting with would just want to take her back, but Hermione knew it wasn’t possible. Her disappearance would be blamed on Severus and he would likely be killed, depleting their chances at victory significantly. She very much wished to see her friends again, but she wanted the war over and she would deal with being away from them for a little longer if that goal was accomplished. There was also that small feeling building inside her - the one that liked being around Severus, the intellectual conversations she had with him and the laughter she shared with Rabastan - she sincerely hoped that they both survived the war.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Severus and Rabastan had snuck her out of Voldemort’s headquarters a lot more easily than she expected and while she knew how to apparate, and didn’t need a wand to do it, Severus had taken her by side-along, just in case. She couldn’t say she didn’t like the feeling of being pressed up against his lean body.   
She recognised the place they landed as the Forest of Dean, somewhere she had camped with her parents a few years previously, one of the few times they’d spent time together. It had been something Hermione had wanted to try and she had a feeling that her parents had only gone along with it because they felt guilty about leaving her alone a lot in the summer holidays, even though she was away at school so much. She could almost hear their complaints about bugs, cold and nature in general - in the end she had just insisted they go home and she knew they were glad the week-long trip had been cut to only three days. They’d gone straight back to work the next day.   
But she wouldn’t think about that right now - she would think of the unknown friend she would be able to see. She liked Severus and Rabastan’s company but she longed to see someone else, someone who would be able to give her first hand intelligence on how her friends were doing.

They walked for a little while before they reached a clearing and Hermione wanted to ask why they hadn’t just apparated straight in, but thought better of it, Severus seemed a little tense, probably at the thought of meeting someone who believed he was a loyal Death Eater. After a few minutes thought she realised he probably wanted to make sure there was no one else hiding ready to pounce or something and was glad she hadn’t spoken.   
They stood in the clearing in silence for a few minutes, Hermione getting more antsy as time ticked on and brought her one step closer to seeing a member of the Order.   
“Hermione,” Severus said with exasperation, “I can feel your anxiety from here, please try to calm down, as long as everyone is sensible things should go fine.”   
Hermione nodded and tried to tone down the worry, though it was difficult - she desperately wanted to see one of her Order friends, but she also didn’t want to hear Severus and Rabastan be called traitors. She just hoped that the Order member they were meeting was inclined to be reasonable. 

A few more minutes passed until Hermione heard rustling in the trees and her anticipation and excitement spiked, building until a figure in dark wizarding robes walked into the clearing - Kingsley. He looked round the clearing, wary when he saw Severus, on guard and angry when he saw Rabastan and then he saw her.   
She smiled tentatively at him and he strode towards her in two long strides, wrapping her in a warm hug, “we’ve all missed you so much Hermione.”   
She sank into the warm embrace, remembering just how much she missed it and trying to hold off the million and one questions she had about her friends until he’d been given the low-down on Severus and Rabastan’s spy status.  
When Kingsley released her he looked from Severus to Rabastan and then to her with confusion on his face, “Hermione, how are you here, I know Severus is insisting he is still a spy, but Rabastan Lestrange - he was involved in the attack that left Frank and Alice Longbottom in St Mungo’s. You can’t trust him can you?”

Both Severus and Rabastan’s faces remained neutral, probably so as not to alarm Kingsley, but Hermione knew they must be a little upset at the label, even if they knew it was what they were supposed to be seen as.   
Hermione looked into Kingsley’s eyes with a little smile, “they brought me here, despite the risks, not to mention I know for a fact that they are both spies.”   
There, get it out in the open in a short and simple way - of course, there will likely be a lot of questions.   
“Spies Hermione, how could they be spies if no one in the Order knows about them, even before Albus was killed, there was never any record of Lestrange as a spy. As for bringing you here, that could easily be some kind of ruse to gain my trust, you know that.”   
She rolled her eyes, “yes I know Kingsley, constant vigilance lives on, but I had their true allegiance confirmed by a source even you wouldn’t doubt.”   
He looked at her doubtfully, “and who would that be Hermione, there are very few the Order trusts implicitly?”   
She shrugged, “Dumbledore’s portrait of course, despite the fact that it’s a painting it has all his memories and there would be no reason for him to lie.”

Kingsley was gaping now and Hermione was cursing inwardly, she wasn’t doing a very good job at convincing him of the truth. She turned pleading eyes onto Severus and Rabastan and they nodded, they would take the story over now.   
Severus stepped forward, his voice smooth and silky as he spoke, betraying no hint of worry, “perhaps, Shacklebolt, it would be best if Rabastan and I explained the story, after all, Hermione has only heard us speak about it.”   
Kingsley nodded, still looking wary but seeming a little more open to the idea of Severus and Rabastan as good guys considering Severus had used her actual name rather than calling her Miss Granger.   
Hermione placed a small hand on Kingsley’s muscled arm, “I’m going to sit down by the trees while you guys talk. Just remember one thing, as the British muggle chemist and physicist Sir James Dewar said, minds are like parachutes. They only function when they are open. So keep your mind open Kingsley, they are honestly telling the truth. I would trust them with my life and while you might not quite be ready to say that yet, they will help us in the war.” 

Hermione went and sat at the base of one of the trees circling the clearing, far enough so she couldn’t really hear the conversation going on between the three wizards but close enough to get to them quickly if there was any danger. They seemed to be talking in a fairly civilised manner as the two spies explained all that had happened since the end of the school years, past Dumbledore’s death to the present, though of course I was sure they removed the parts about Severus’ feelings for Lily. There were sometimes a few raised voices, especially when it came to what I believed was the part about Dumbledore’s murder, or would you call it assisted suicide, perhaps a mercy killing.   
She tried not to listen much, she’d heard the story already and a lot of it was sad enough that she didn’t relish listening again. Instead she practiced her wandless magic - she still trained most days with Severus and she was improving, able to do simple and most moderate spells without effort. A few of the moderate spells and the complex ones still gave her trouble, but as Rabastan liked to remind her, Rome wasn’t built in a day. Severus just told her to get on with her work and quit whining because she was progressing faster than anyone he’d ever seen - she was used to the compliments mixed in with insults from him now and just focused on the positive part of the statement, that she was progressing well. There wasn’t much she could practice in a clearing out in the middle of nowhere, so she stuck to levitating and transfiguring random sticks and stones she found where she was sitting.

She was so engrossed in her practice that she didn’t notice that the three wizards had finished speaking and were now watching her, Rabastan with amusement, Severus with something close to pride and Kingsley with surprise.   
“I didn’t know you could do wandless magic Hermione, it’s very advanced.”   
She looked up, blushing lightly when she saw she had an audience and then shrugging at his statement, “they took my wand when they captured me and Severus wanted me to have some way to defend myself so he’s been teaching me, though I can’t do complex spells yet.”   
Kingsley nodded, looking rather intrigued, both by Hermione’s grasp of wandless magic and her casual use of Severus’ name, “it’s amazing, I can only do first year spells without a wand and I’m an Auror, a very good talent to have though.”   
Hermione smiled at him before directing her gaze on Severus and Rabastan, a tiny pout on her lips as she put across her message without words - she wanted to talk with Kingsley about her friends.   
Both seemed to get the message, though Severus didn’t seem happy about it for some reason, and Rabastan grinned, “right Mia, we’ll leave you and Shacklebolt here to talk, Severus and I have some last minute things to straighten out before we talk to the big, bad Auror here about how we can help the Order.”   
He practically dragged Severus away, a rather amusing sight, leaving her to talk with Kingsley.

She was still sitting on the ground and patted the spot of grass next to her, “sit down Kings, there’s so much I want to ask you, and I suppose you have questions for me too.”   
He nodded and she smiled again, “I knew we were meeting someone, but they wouldn’t tell me who. I guessed it was probably going to be you or Remus, the level headed ones, but since Remus saw me dragged off by Severus I guess he probably wouldn’t have been so receptive to the idea of him still being on our side.”   
Kingsley grinned, despite the seriousness of the conversation, “that’s probably true, we were all panicking when the Death Eaters left and we realised you and Remus were missing, everyone wanted to send out a search party, Harry and Ron leading them of course, but we finally managed to persuade Sirius and the two of them that we needed to wait and plan something. When Remus came back we were a little suspicious it was a trap but some Veritaserum and questions cleared that up. He was so angry when he told us about what had happened, I could pretty much feel the guilt rolling off him because he thought it was his fault, though I know you’d never view it that way.”   
She frowned at the thought of Remus beating himself up over her capture, it was so like him to feel too guilty, “how did they take the news that I was under Severus’ watch,” she asked, a little fearful of the answer.

He laughed at her expression, “they took it just like you’re imagining it - took us all twenty minutes to calm Harry, Ron, Sirius and Remus down, the last one was a bit of a surprise because he so rarely loses his temper, but I think watching you get taken away was a bit much for him. Of course, he told us what you were expected to do - trying to help kill Harry - and while we knew you’d never want to, we also believed Severus to be a dark, powerful wizard and we didn’t know what he might do to try and ‘persuade’ you to help. Harry and Ron were adamant that you’d never do anything to help, but the rest of us know the sort of methods dark wizards employ and that, while you are incredibly strong, it would be difficult to hold out against them. I can’t say how glad it makes me to know that you haven’t been subjected to anything like that.”   
Hermione smiled, deciding not to mention to one bout of Crucio she’d been dealt by Voldemort, it wasn’t anything too terrible in comparison to what it could have been and she didn’t what to upset her friend.

“Enough of this melancholy,” she told him with a grin, “I want you to tell me about everyone, I know they must be a bit stressed right now but I haven’t seen them in what seems like forever and I just want to know what they’ve been up to.”   
He pondered her request for a few moments before he launched into a detailed report of what each of her friends had been up to, apart from moping about the missing Hermione. Harry, Ron, Sirius and Remus had been most involved in the search for Horcruxes, working from the Burrow as a base, but going off on trips once or twice a week, normally for two or three days. They had come back empty handed so far and were beginning to get a little despondent, but Kingsley assured her that he was sure the information Hermione, Severus and Rabastan would pass on would be a great help.   
He, Tonks and Arthur Weasley were still trying to recruit in the Ministry, but while Voldemort had no official hold over it yet, his influence was strong and the number willing to join the Order, even just as outer members for the battle, was disappointingly small. Their jobs were safe so far, but they knew time was limited until it became too dangerous to go into work.   
Professor McGonagall had now been instated as Headmistress of Hogwarts and was getting ready for the onslaught of children that would shortly arrive at the school. While Harry and Ron had flat out refused to return to Hogwarts, especially without Hermione, Molly and Arthur were forcing Ginny to return, though Kingsley said he doubted they would let her if Voldemort’s power rose much more.   
They were all doing their best for the war effort, despite the little return they were receiving and Dumbledore’s portrait had yet to speak again. Kingsley now understood why the deceased Headmaster was silent - he didn’t want to enter into a conversation where he would accidentally reveal Severus’ loyalties before the time was right - Hermione had almost snorted at that, she doubted Dumbledore ever did anything by accident, he just didn‘t want to listen to people slandering Severus and be expected to join in. Despite Severus’ almost constant scowl and dark personality, Hermione knew Dumbledore loved him like the son he never had.

They spoke a little longer about their friends, with Hermione reaching over every now and then to hug Kingsley, as if to reassure herself that he was there and that it wasn’t a dream. She didn’t notice the slight growls and increasingly menacing expression on Severus’ face, directed towards Kingsley and thankfully not noticed by him either. Of course, Severus had no conscious idea of why he was doing it, which made it all the more hilarious to Rabastan, who knew exactly why he would be angry, wouldn’t share the reason with Severus and was having a hard time stopping himself from laughing.   
The time talking to Kingsley was a welcome relief from the reality Hermione was suffering - stuck in place with only two people who cared about her, one of whom was pretty much an emotion phobic - but she knew it couldn’t last forever and once an hour had passed she reluctantly let Kingsley pull her to her feet and lead her back to where Severus and Rabastan were waiting.

“I believe its time we went Hermione,” Severus said, “we shouldn’t tempt fate anymore than we already have by not having you where you should be.”   
Hermione nodded and turned to Kingsley, “I won’t be able to see you again, until just before the final battle at least, so please take care, be careful and watch out for the others.”   
He nodded, “of course Hermione, you must be safe as well, if the others knew I’d seen you then they’d kill me if I didn’t make sure you were taking care of yourself.”   
She smiled and stepped back, allowing Severus to speak to Kingsley, “we have ascertained that Nagini is a Horcrux, so perhaps you can use subtle hints so that Potter gets the message.”   
Kingsley agreed and Severus gave a curt nod, “one last thing, we need access to some of the books in the Hogwarts library, I will set up some more meetings but if you could be thinking of a way to sneak either Rabastan or I in I would be most grateful.”   
Another nod from Kingsley and Severus was preparing to take her by side-along apparition. She hugged Kingsley again, clinging to him until Rabastan gently extracted her from his arms - “come on Mia, we have to go” - and handed her to Severus. She took one last look at Kingsley before they left the clearing and didn’t realise the tears were falling until her vision began to fog.

No, I will see Kingsley again, I’ll see all my friends again. The war will be over and we will live peacefully like we’ve always wanted.  
She repeated the mantra over and over in her head until she was positive it was fact.   
Because really, she didn’t quite know what she’d do if it wasn’t.


	10. Take A Chance

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“Everything has been figured out, except how to live.”  
Jean-Paul Sartre

Hermione found herself gaining more hope after seeing Kingsley - the meeting had confirmed to her that all her friends were currently alive and well, as well as the fact that at least one member of the Order knew the truth about both Severus and Rabastan’s loyalties. As promised, Kingsley had somehow managed to sneak Severus into Hogwarts before the children returned and they were now in possession of a rather large collection of books on the four founders. The books all had spells preventing them being copied and Hermione was worried about what would happen if Madame Pince realised the books were missing, but Kingsley said he would ensure no one noticed - she didn’t quite know how he was going to manage that, but she was grateful he would.  
With all the new information they’d received from the books, they could now be positive that the Ravenclaw heirloom holding a Horcrux was Rowena’s diadem, of course trying to locate exactly where it was seemed to proving a little more difficult. Still, they were hopeful about the destruction of some Horcruxes as Kingsley had been charged with subtly delivering the information about Nagini and Hufflepuff’s cup to Harry and the rest of the Order and he had promised to let them know if the Horcruxes were destroyed.

A month had passed since their meeting with Kingsley and Hermione had seen no one but Severus and Rabastan since then, though she knew Severus had spoken to Kingsley through messages and met with him once. Despite the urge to see her friend again, she knew the reasons why it would be unwise and she didn’t bring it up with Severus, it would seem very ungrateful after everything he and Rabastan had done for her. She had been stuck in Voldemort’s headquarters for a good few months and she was becoming very close to both Severus and Rabastan, especially since they were her only human contact, if you didn’t count Draco, Remus and Voldemort her first day in captivity and the short meeting with Kingsley.  
The semi-isolation had bothered her at first, but she was so used to it now that she barely noticed it, wrapped up in research or practicing her wandless magic. The meeting with Kingsley had helped too, reassured her, and she felt less of an urge to see her friends. She would still occasionally cry herself to sleep at night worrying about and missing them, but Severus never mentioned it, realising it would be horribly embarrassing, and those nights were getting rarer. She didn’t miss her friends any less, she just got more used to not seeing them.

While her friendship with Rabastan was growing each day, Hermione really had no idea what state her relationship with Severus was in. Most of the time it just confused the hell out of her, because one moment he would be as amiable as Severus normally was, but the next moment he would be snarky, sarcastic and vicious, none of them in a playful way. His seemingly bipolar behaviour was really giving her headaches and she never knew how to act since she didn’t know how he’d react to a joke or teasing comment.  
They’d returned from the meeting with Kingsley and Severus had been a lot more amiable than normal - she’d practiced wandless magic and he’d taken the opportunity to touch her more than normal, nothing major, just correcting her hand movements, things like that. The next day she had mentioned how glad she’d been to see Kingsley and his mood had gone sour - he hadn’t spoken to her without some form of malice for four days straight and she’d cried herself to sleep three of those nights, missing her friends and distressed by his mood.  
She didn’t know what the fuck was going on and the only logical conclusion she could come to was that he was, dare she say it, jealous. For he only seemed to drop into a bad mood when she mentioned one of her male friends - he was unbothered by any mention of Ginny, Tonks or Luna. She wanted to dismiss that idea as ridiculous, she’d never be so lucky that he would actually like her back - he must just be annoyed by her mention of people he tended to dislike.

After two weeks of such treatment, Hermione decided she was sick of getting whiplash from Severus’ sudden changes in mood. She wasn’t quite brave enough to confront him about his behaviour yet and so she decided she would do the next best thing - talk to Rabastan, the wizard who probably knew Severus the best, excepting the omniscient Dumbledore of course. She had to be sure that Severus would be out of the way for a good few hours before the attempted to talk to Rabastan, the conversation could obviously never happen when Severus was around and it wouldn’t do for him to walk in halfway through. She got more and more desperate as another week passed and no opportunity for an in-depth conversation with Rabastan arose.  
However, she was saved from doing something drastic to get him out of the room when he announced he was “performing services for the Dark Lord that will keep me occupied all day - Rabastan will baby-sit.”  
She resented the babysitting comment, they all knew she was far from a child, but she didn’t argue, something that surely shocked him, merely glad that she would finally have the opportunity to speak with Rabastan without resorting to doing something that would likely get her hexed.

Severus had disappeared to complete whatever odious tasks Voldemort set for him with nothing more than a simple goodbye and a reminder not to do anything stupid. Hermione once again felt like a child being scolded, even though she hadn’t even done anything. She was glad Rabastan was coming; she didn’t know how much more of Severus’ cold, horrid behaviour she could take. Sure, she’d dealt with him being malicious at Hogwarts, but that was a few hours a week, staying in his quarters she had to cope with him and his bloody moods all day long, which wasn’t easy considering she was already on edge about the safety of her friends and the possibility that Voldemort might decide to kill her any day.  
She got to work on some research, trying to take her mind of the complexities of her relationship with Severus, but found work difficult and was very relieved when Rabastan entered the room, about an hour after Severus had left it. She stood to greet him, mouth curving into a smile at the sight of the wizard so many feared, but who was lovable and playful deep down. Still, she wasn’t quite able to hide the toll that worry and lack of sleep resulting from that worry had taken on her and he looked concerned.

“What’s wrong Mia?” he asked as he hugged her in greeting, “you look tired - have you been getting enough sleep?”  
She smiled at his anxiety, it was a welcome change to what she’d been putting up with from Severus recently and reminded her a little of the paternal concerns someone like Kingsley or Remus would show, though Rabastan’s true personality - mostly playful and teasing - meant she would never consider him a paternal figure.  
“I’m ok Rabastan,” she told him, “just haven’t been getting much sleep, you know how I worry and Severus hasn’t exactly been the most delightful companion these past few weeks.”  
Rabastan gave a snort, “now that’s putting it lightly Mia, I’ve seen him in some pretty shaky moods and, excepting some of the darker things we’ve had to do for the Dark Lord and Lily’s death of course, this is one of his worst ones.”  
Hermione sighed softly at the reminder of Severus’ less than happy life, but Rabastan had given her the opening she needed to talk about Severus, obviously noticing how he’d been behaving the past few weeks.  
“Erm, Rabastan, do you mind if we talk please, I’m just a little confused and since you know Severus best, well so does Dumbledore too I suppose, but it's not the sort of thing you want to talk about with your deceased ex-Headmaster really.”

She paused when he laughed and put a finger on her lips to silence her, “you’re rambling Mia, you only do that when you’re nervous.”  
She gave a sheepish grin, “sorry Rabastan, its just I really am confused. I have no delusions about his personality, I know he can be a caustic bastard, that he’s normally cold and sarcastic, but I’ve seen a better side to him, an amusing, intelligent, brilliant one and I want it back. It’s like he’s punishing me for something and I just don’t know what the fuck I did.”  
Rabastan sat down, patting the spot on the sofa next to him, “I can see where this conversation is going Mia, I’m rather surprised it took you so long to figure it out though, you are supposed to be a genius after all.”  
She scowled and slapped his side, “I figured it out a little while ago, it sort of came to me gradually and I was more than a little freaked out, I mean he isn’t exactly the sort of guy who’d be interested in Harry Potter’s bookish, teenage best friend is he?”  
She gave a little sniff and Rabastan wrapped his arms around her in a warm hug, something she rarely got these days, “don’t say that Mia, you’ve got loads going for you, it’s just you don’t realise it.”

She snorted, “you’re just trying to make me feel better, in case you haven’t noticed, Severus has been foul to me practically all the time ever since we got back from the meeting with Kingsley.”  
Rabastan just laughed - he actually laughed at her distress. She scowled and he stopped, though a smile still lingered, “sorry Mia, it’s just, I thought you’d realise - Severus is jealous.”  
Well, she’d considered that of course, she was a logical person and considered all possibilities, but she’d written it off almost immediately because it was completely ridiculous for someone like him to like someone like her.  
Rabastan had obviously interpreted her expression because he shook his head, partly amused and partly exasperated, “Mia, Severus is not too good for you, if anything you are probably too good for him, but that doesn’t matter if you both like each other. Trust me when I say that the way he is acting is mostly due to jealousy, you were so comfortable with Shacklebolt, so happy - he wishes he could give you that. He knows how difficult a relationship between the two of you would be, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. So tell me Mia, what exactly do you feel for our resident snarky Potions Master?”

She laughed sharply, “simple question Rabastan, but it’s a hell of a complex answer. He can bring out the best in me, the part that thrives on intellectual conversation and feels that she can take on the world if she chose. He also brings out my Slytherin side too, though I suppose I have you to thank for that as well. He makes me feel happy, clever and alive. The problem is, he can make me feel like total crap too and I know he’s got his reasons - hell, if anyone has reason to be bitter and angry, it’s him - but I just hate it that someone I like, maybe even love, so much could make me feel like that. Surely it shouldn’t be like that.”  
He shrugged, “for boring couples maybe, perhaps even for normal ones, but neither you nor Severus are normal Mia. If you were together then I know there would be arguments from hell, you can both be pretty volatile and stubborn when you wish. But there would also be passion - though Merlin knows I don’t want to start talking about that with you, you’re like my bloody sister. Just promise me that if you and Severus ever do the dirty, you will never let me hear any intimate details.”  
She gaped at him, red tinting her cheeks and completely mortified, but still a little pleased by the way he casually referred to her like his sister.  
“I doubt it would ever come to that Rabastan, he just doesn’t like me that way.”  
Rabastan shook his head once more, “of course he does,” he told her, “just talk to him, tell him how you feel and you may well be surprised by how things turn out.”  
She nodded with resignation, “fine, but only because I know you’d just bug me till I did. But if everything goes to hell you know I’m holding you personally responsible.”  
He grinned, “wouldn’t have it any other way Mia.”

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With all the heavy emotional talk out of the way, Rabastan soon reverted back to his childish self, while Hermione regained some of her cheerfulness. He helped her with some more research, watching over her carefully to prevent her getting near any books harmful to muggleborns. She also practiced her wandless magic for a little while, though it was just going over what she had already learnt - she’d already surpassed Rabastan’s skill so he couldn’t help her. Despite this, he had lots of fun watching her make objects fly round the room with just a wave of her hand and laughing as she changed his hair colour from its natural dark brown to pink to red to green and back to brown.  
Rabastan was relieved to see Hermione in better spirits, she hadn’t been at all happy for a while, not really since their meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt. He hoped it would work out between her and Severus, they fit together somehow.  
He was broken from his reverie by a knock on the door and his eyes shot to Hermione’s with alarm. Severus didn’t need to knock to get into his own quarters, meaning it was obviously a loyal death eater.  
“Make sure you’re reading something related to destroying Potter,” he told her, “and for Merlin’s sake don’t look happy to be around me. Remember, you’re scared, sad, lonely, worried and most likely in pain.”  
She nodded minutely, he steeled himself for the ensuing meeting and opened the door.

The swearwords racing through his head when he saw who was at the door would have made a sailor blush - Lucius Malfoy was right outside and Severus wasn’t there to help.  
Lucius looked him up and down haughtily - the snob always did think he was better than Rabastan - “what are you doing here Rabastan, as far as I’m aware, these are Severus’ quarters.”  
Rabastan nodded, “yes Lucius, but Severus has some work to do today for our Lord and asked me to come and keep an eye on the mudblood - not my favourite pastime, but I have nothing better to do.”  
Lucius sneered, “well you wouldn’t, I doubt the Dark Lord trusts you as he does me.” Rabastan just snorted, “you’re deluding yourself there Lucius - you haven’t been in the Dark Lord’s good books for years so stop pretending. Our Lord trusts me and that is all that matters - now, was there a reason for your little visit or do you just like to waste the time of better wizards.”  
The blonde wizard sniffed haughtily, “I came to see what the mudblood whore is like, after all who knows what will become of her when her use to the Dark Lord has run out, she may be given as a gift to one of the faithful.”

Rabastan felt his anger rising and worked hard to quell it before he showed his true feelings to Lucius - that sick, perverted bastard was going to be first in line on his kill list when his charade as a loyal death eater was over.  
“I don’t know why you bothered to come then,” he told Lucius, “it’s not like you’ll be getting anywhere near her - the Dark Lord knows of your perversions and she will be useful for a while yet. If any of us will get her it is likely to be Severus and you know how he doesn’t like to share.”  
Not exactly a lie - Severus played as very territorial in order to keep his ‘gifts’ to himself and either end their suffering or somehow set them free. Anyway, Hermione would be more protected if Lucius thought twice about going near her.  
Lucius’ eyes narrowed - Rabastan knew the snobby blonde didn’t like him, but he also knew that the dislike had escalated to almost a hatred now - “despite what the Dark Lord chooses,” he sneered, “I still wish to see her. Must make sure she’s doing what she’s been kept around for - it is in our Lord’s best interests to destroy Potter and send him to his precious Dumbledore as soon as possible.”

“If you insist Lucius, you may of course see her, but I will inform Severus, especially if you try something - he doesn’t like other people encroaching on what is his, whether temporarily or permanently. I will of course let the Dark Lord know if you do something to prevent the mudblood from carrying out the assignment she has been given.”  
The not so subtle threats appeared to have been heard, though Rabastan didn’t know whether Lucius would listen. He was a fairly intelligent wizard but he could be an idiot at times and if he was as interested in Hermione as Severus thought then he could be dangerous to her. Stepping aside to let Lucius in, Rabastan’s eyes quickly met Hermione’s and he assessed that she had thankfully heard little of the conversation - he was glad, she didn’t need to hear what he was forced to say and the crap coming from Lucius.  
When Rabastan and Severus had spoken with Hermione about how to act around loyal death eaters they had tried not to make it too complicated - “be fairly submissive, trust me Mia, a few months under Severus, if he were loyal to the Dark Lord, would be enough to make even the strongest person afraid of him. You can act nervous and scared too, though I doubt there’d be much acting involved. No matter what you want to say, please don’t talk back because even though they probably won’t hurt you, Severus or I will be expected to and we don’t want to do that.”

She managed fairly well, he thought, keeping relatively calm despite the hitch in her breath when she saw Lucius and the slight quickening of her heart. She didn’t look up as the Malfoy patriarch walked over to her, only looking at him when he used that stupid cane of his, which hid his wand, to tip her chin up so he could look at her face. She tried not to let the disgust show on her face, knowing the consequences would be bad, and managed to put on a passive expression, though hints of fear slipped through.  
“So we meet again Miss Granger, though I suppose these aren’t quite the circumstances you would wish. You have certainly grown since the last time I saw you,” he leered a little as his eyes raked over her form and she couldn’t help but shudder a little.  
“You are such an intriguing mudblood, such intelligence and passion, it is fascinating. Hopefully I shall have my turn once your use is over, we shall see.”  
He lifted on hand a stroked it fleetingly across her cheek, her eyes widening at the unwanted contact, before turning to Rabastan, “I shall see myself out and, of course, I will inform the Dark Lord that the mudblood is doing as instructed in regards to the Potter boy’s destruction.”  
He nodded once to Rabastan, glanced again at Hermione and swept out of the door.

Hermione barely noticed she was trembling slightly until Rabastan wrapped his arms around her petite frame, “it’s ok Mia, he’s gone now and if I have anything to do with it he won’t be back any time soon, we won’t let him hurt you.”  
She nodded slightly, gripping onto him tightly, and he knew the whole incident, especially what Lucius had said to her, had shaken her quite a bit. He was trying to calm her, but also himself, for his mind was running through ways to kill the sick fucker in his sleep. He was almost glad he hadn’t thought to employ the small amount of Leglimancy he knew on Lucius, who had no Occlumency skills whatsoever, as it would likely have caused him to kill the wizard on the spot.  
“You have to ignore what Lucius says Mia, he won’t get his hands on you, despite what he thinks. The Dark Lord only really keeps him round for the money he gives to the cause, the bastard isn’t particularly efficient and he tends to have a little too much fun with torture, which wastes time.” Crap - he really shouldn’t have mentioned that to her.  
“Look Mia, just forget about it, tonight you need to talk to Severus about your feelings and I’ll save the information on Lucius’ little visit till tomorrow so you can talk while he isn’t in a murderous rage.”  
She nodded and leant back against him as he tried to calm her a little more. Hopefully her talk with Severus would go well - someone could do with being happy in this dump.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione was nervous - more nervous even than she had been going into Hogwarts for the first time - she was about to confess her feelings to Severus Snape. She didn’t care what Rabastan said, she was almost positive that he wouldn’t feel the same, how could he love, or even like, a frizzy haired know-it-all. Sure, her hair wasn’t exactly frizzy any more, but curly, and she didn’t have her buck-teeth any longer. She might even say he could find her intelligence endearing, since he himself was academic. But still, she couldn’t believe he would possibly like her. She would tell him how she felt, he would shoot her down and there would be awkwardness for the rest of her stay in Voldemort’s gloomy lair.  
Despite all this, she would still tell him, because it was better than wondering what he was feeling, wondering what could be. She might as well get it all out in the open so at least she has some closure. Not to mention Rabastan keeps calling her a coward and she can’t allow that. She’s not petty, she just doesn’t appreciate being called something that is so opposite to what her Hogwarts house is supposed to encompass - bravery.  
Rabastan had left half an hour ago, when Severus returned, after winking in her direction. Damn it, Severus can probably sense her nervousness, he’s just perceptive like that, but at this moment she isn’t particularly pleased by that fact.

“Honestly Hermione, what are you pacing for, you’ve been doing it since I got back and its more than a little irritating. Sit down and read for a while, I need silence while I go through your notes.”  
So he was in that kind of mood then, well it wasn’t like she hadn’t been putting up with it for weeks, she was used to it by now. She sat opposite him and picked up a random book, something on the history of wizarding Britain, flicked it open and began to read, though she wasn’t really taking the words in. Inside she was trying desperately to work out some way, preferably the least embarrassing one, to tell Severus how she felt about him. Someone more impulsive might have just told him straight off, but Hermione tended to think things through, especially important things, and she wouldn’t just say it - she just didn’t think it would mean as much that way.  
They sat is silence, Hermione thinking while trying to remember to turn the book pages every now and then, if she forgot it would be the sort of thing Severus would notice. An idea hit her about an hour after Severus returned - she would confront him about his behaviour around her and hopefully get a feel for his feelings for her before she revealed her own. 

She waited until Severus had finished with the majority of her notes before she broached her first question, getting straight to the point, “Severus, why have you been in such a foul mood for the past few weeks?”  
He stopped flicking through pages immediately, his dark eyes turning to look at her and a deep scowl on his face - great, she’d asked one question and he was already mad.  
“I wasn’t aware I had been acting any differently Hermione,” he said, and she knew she should be grateful he was still calling her Hermione rather than reverting back to Miss Granger.  
Still, it was annoying that he was denying what was blatantly obvious and she wasn’t happy about it, “don’t play ignorant Severus, it doesn’t suit you. Ever since we went to meet with Kingsley you’ve acted all moody with me and I don’t know what I did wrong. If I didn’t know better then I’d say you were jealous of Kingsley.”  
His eyes flashed dangerously, but she was glad she’d finally got a reaction out of him, “I have no idea what you are talking about Hermione,” he said calmly, despite the fact that there was an undercurrent of anger there.  
That did it, if he wasn’t going to be honest then how were they supposed to have the bloody conversation about feelings. She didn’t quite know how it had happened, but one moment he was staring moodily at her as she glared at him and the next he had silenced the room and they were standing about five feet apart yelling at each other.

“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST TELL ME THE FUCKING TRUTH SEVERUS, THAT’S ALL I ASK - THE TRUTH RATHER THAN JUST IGNORING ME OR BEING HORRIBLE.”  
“YOU WANT THE TRUTH, FINE! I WAS JEALOUS OF SHACKLEBOLT - I HATED HIM FOR THE WAY HE COULD JUST CASUALLY TOUCH YOU, HUG YOU, WITHOUT ANYONE SAYING ANYTHING.”  
“OH, SO YOU DECIDED THAT I HAD TO SUFFER THEN, YOU JUST IGNORED ME OR LASHED OUT - CAN’T YOU GET IT THROUGH YOUR THICK HEAD THAT I DON’T EVEN LIKE KINGSLEY THAT WAY - HE’S MY FRIEND.”  
“BUT YOU LIKE SOMEONE, I KNOW THAT MUCH HERMIONE SO DON’T DENY IT, I CAN TELL. WHO IS IT? RABASTAN, I SEE THE TWO OF YOU LAUGHING AND JOKING ALL THE TIME. IS IT HIM.”  
“FOR MERLIN’S SAKE SEVERUS, I DO NOT FANCY RABASTAN, HE IS LIKE MY FUCKING BROTHER.”

She paused for a moment to catch her breath, before stepping a little closer to him, “honestly Severus, I can’t believe you didn’t notice, Rabastan said he bloody knew weeks ago, months even. You are the idiotic, oblivious, intelligent, brilliant, sarcastic wizard that I love.”  
She took another few steps forward until she was almost touching Severus. Then, with a lot of courage and just a little daring, she reached up on her toes and kissed him. 

He seemed rather shocked, but after a few second he kissed back and she thought that was a good sign, he must like her to be kissing her. It wasn’t anything like her first kiss with Viktor, which had been sweet and really a little tame and had ended after she’d elbowed him for trying to feel under her top. This kiss was a lot like she’d imagined one with Severus would be - not that she spent all her time dreaming about it. It was rather passionate, but they had both been arguing rather fiercely and she guessed it was partly due to that.  
It also felt very right and if Hermione had previously had any reservations about a relationship with Severus, they all flew out of the window with that kiss. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer to him, a feeling she enjoyed immensely.  
When they finally broke apart, seconds later, though it felt like hours, both were breathless and while Hermione was rather dazed, despite the fact that she had initiated the kiss, Severus had a tiny smirk on his face, along with an expression of intense satisfaction.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” he told her in the sensual, silky voice she loved so much, no longer marred my annoyance or anger.  
That sentence told her all she needed to know - Rabastan had been right and Severus liked her back. She felt like she was floating so entirely happy that she barely remembered she was still stuck in Voldemort’s headquarters trying to find a way to save Harry and destroy an evil wizard.  
When Severus, obviously taking her smile as an invitation, bent his head and began kissing her again, all coherent thought left her head and she knew only one thing - she could definitely get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, they're really getting somewhere - it only took over half the story!


	11. Three Lights Plot In The Darkness

[](http://s772.beta.photobucket.com/user/keira_63/library/Harry%20Potter%20Fanfic%20Banners)

“Life consists not in holding good cards but in playing those you hold well.”  
Josh Billings

“You two better cut that sappy crap out now,” Rabastan told them with a smirk, “it’s making me wish I had a woman.”  
Severus scowled as he looked up from Hermione, whom he had been kissing rather passionately a moment ago, “I am not sappy,” he told his friend, “I have been called many things - dark, dangerous, terrifying, passionate even, but no one has ever used the word sappy in relation to me and I don’t intend to let you start now.”  
Hermione placed a hand on his arm in a gentle manner while Rabastan sniggered, “sorry Severus, but Mia appears to have you well and truly wrapped around her little finger - you’ve only been official a week, though really you were dancing round the sexual tension for ages, I mean how oblivious can two overly intelligent people get. I’m telling you -”  
“You aren’t telling us anything Rabastan, you are shutting up before I hex you. Just because I’ve found the most marvellous girl doesn’t mean I’m any different, nor does it mean I can’t still have you begging for mercy in ten seconds flat.”  
Rabastan just snorted, “whatever you say Severus, now if you two don’t mind we have work to be getting on with and while I am delighted that you are happy I am afraid that war waits for no one.”

Rabastan sat down into between the couple because, as he put it, “I want to get some fucking work done and it’s a little difficult when you’re touching each other every five seconds.”  
Hermione looked vaguely shamefaced and apologetic, while Severus just shrugged and both picked up a book. They hadn’t heard back from Kingsley yet on the progress Harry, Ron and the Order were making on destroying the Horcruxes but since neither Severus or Rabastan had heard anything from Voldemort, Hermione could assume that none of her friends had been hurt or captured. Though they were still not sure about the location of Ravenclaw’s diadem, they had given information on the object to Kingsley for him to ‘suggest’ to the rest of the Order. It was now almost totally up to the rest of the Order to find and destroy Hufflepuff’s cup, Ravenclaw’s diadem and Nagini, though the last one would likely have to wait for the final battle.  
Hermione was still researching possible witches or wizards with the initials of R.A.B to try and discern who had stolen the real locket Horcrux, but she was having little luck so far. Still, as Severus said, while she was desperate to help Harry they couldn’t be expected to do all the work and the Order were by no means incapable, despite the fact that their skills tended to lay within the practical field rather than research.

Hermione couldn’t help the fact that her gaze kept slipping from her books to Severus, honestly she couldn’t. She was so new to the whole relationship experience - there had only ever been a brief relationship with Viktor - and she was certainly not used to the intense, passionate affair her relationship with Severus was turning into.  
She could remember that first kiss with him with amazing clarity and was certain it would be forever embedded in her mind. That kiss had been followed by many more before they had finally got down to actually talking about their newfound relationship.

They were both sitting in rather awkward silence, a state rather unusual for a witch who loved to talk (usually about a book, theory etc.) and a wizard who always had something snarky, sarcastic or mean to say. Their impromptu kissing session meant Hermione’s shirt was rather ruffled, her hair a little wilder than normal and her lips slightly swollen from Severus’ frantic kisses. Of course he looked just as tidy as he had when he entered the room and she was rather jealous that he’d managed to escape the physical proof of what they had just done.  
Not that she regretted it - because she most certainly didn’t - but it was a little annoying that he could remain so unruffled by something that had turned her into a wild woman.  
They remained in silence a few minutes more, Hermione sinking deeper into the sofa in an attempt to disappear and escape the inevitable conversation, until finally Severus just rolled his eyes, “are we going to talk about this Hermione, or can I assume you believe that it was a mistake not to be repeated.”

She shook her head frantically, “no, I don’t think it’s a mistake, honestly, I just …”  
She broke off when she saw his smirk, “you tricked me,” she said with a playfully accusatory tone.  
He didn’t deny it, “it seemed the best way to get you to speak, I am quite secure in your affection for me, since you did tell me, not to mention kiss me quite enthusiastically.”  
She almost laughed at what at first appeared to be cockiness, but was really just confidence - after all, what he had said was true and he had every right to be secure about her feelings for him.  
“I guess we need to talk about what happened,” she said to him, “but please don’t say it was a mistake.”  
He laughed slightly, “I would never think it a mistake Hermione, I’m very glad we made our feelings known, my behaviour these past weeks hasn’t been particularly nice, even by my own low standards, but hopefully I won’t be like that as much, though I can’t guarantee it of course.”

She looked shyly at him, “so you do feel the same way.”  
He nodded, “of course, Hermione, did you not realise that when I kissed you - you are such an intriguing woman and I have not felt this way since Lily, in fact this may be a stronger love even than what I had for her. She will likely always hold a piece of my heart, for she was my best friend before a girl I loved, but I don’t think I will ever love her the way I do you.”  
Hermione couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on her face, he really did love her. It had been only a little while since she recognised her feelings for him, but she knew they had been building since she was placed in his rooms by Voldemort. She had always admired Severus, despite his ‘interesting’ teaching methods and the mask of hatred he put on for everyone but Slytherins.  
Severus’ voice broke her from her thoughts, “I believe we should pursue this relationship, though with all the issues we both have it is best to go slowly. Also, both of us, you especially, must be prepared for the distinct possibility that one or both of us will not make it through the war.”

Hermione felt tears spring up in her eyes, she didn’t want Severus to say such things, despite the fact that such a scenario was rather likely given his dangerous position as a spy and her status as the muggleborn best friend of Harry Potter.  
He interpreted her worry correctly and wrapped his arms around her, a comforting gesture despite the fact that he seemed a little uncomfortable - he didn’t really have opportunity or inclination to such a thing often, “do not worry Hermione, we will enjoy what time we do have and do our best to help bring down the Dark Lord. Whatever happens then, we must always remember our feelings.”  
Hermione nodded, gripping tightly onto his hand as if it were the only life raft in a sinking ship. They remained like that, just sitting, until Rabastan entered and teased them until they started some work.

Of course, even though they had only been together a short week, their time together wasn’t always as peaceful as that evening. They seemed to argue every day, sometimes about the silliest things, but they were both stubborn, strong-willed people and so she expected that. All the stress they were under didn’t help and she saw most of their arguments as ways to relieve such stress, not to mention the kissing was always much more passionate when they were making up from a disagreement.  
She was also happy with the gentlemanly way in which Severus conducted himself. She knew men expected things from relationships, and she had thought it would be even stronger in a man of Severus’ age - the prime age in wizarding years - but he did not pressure her about sex, in fact he had not yet mentioned it. She was rather pleased, Severus meant more to her in a romantic way than anyone ever had, but she had so little experience and she definitely wanted to wait a little longer before thinking about such things.  
There were also bigger problems to deal with - their research needed to press on as much as possible and both Lucius and Draco Malfoy were quickly becoming issues. She shuddered a little as she remembered Severus’ reaction to the scene with Lucius Malfoy when Rabastan had been watching over her. His eyes had been so terrifying and she had gone to her room, wandlessly soundproofing it as Severus worked out his anger by duelling with Rabastan, who in turn managed the difficult task of persuading Severus that he should not go and find Lucius in order to rip him into pieces for what he had done.

When Hermione had returned to the sitting room both Severus and Rabastan were sitting down rather calmly, though there was an aura of anger in the air that did not clear for a few hours. They explained that Lucius was to be left alone for the moment, though of course his actions were to be closely monitored - none of them wanted him anywhere near Hermione. Of course they couldn’t be too obvious about it, that would cause suspicion, but Severus assured her that they would be going over some defensive magic in case she was ever caught unaware by the elder Malfoy.  
The only real upside to what Hermione had jokingly termed the ‘Bigoted Malfoy Debacle’ was the protectiveness Severus had been exuding ever since. While she knew everyone in the Order cared very much about her, they all knew how powerful her magic and temper were and so they weren’t often protective unless it was a dangerous situation. It was rather nice to have someone watching her back all the time, it made her feel safe, something that was very difficult since she was trapped in Voldemort’s headquarters.  
She had put the issue on the backburner for the moment though, while she knew there were many horrible things that Lucius Malfoy could do to her, she also knew that while she had a use - up until the final battle - then Voldemort would want her alive and none of his followers would go against him. There was no point wasting time panicking when she could be doing something much more useful like research - or kissing Severus, though she supposed in the grand scheme of thing that probably wasn’t as important as saving the wizarding world.

Then there was Draco - he was a bit of an enigma to Hermione, he’d been so hateful at Hogwarts, but she thought only she, of the Golden Trio, had noticed the change in their sixth year. He still insulted them constantly, but it seemed half-hearted, like he was only doing it because it was habit and expected of him, not because he really wanted to. Not to mention how ill he looked, so tired and even paler than normal. She’d almost felt sorry for him, especially when she discovered he’d been told to kill Dumbledore and hadn’t managed it. She wasn’t really surprised, she doubted many who had been at the school with Dumbledore could have killed him unless they were truly hard of heart.  
She had ascertained that Draco was likely doing what he did out of fear and she was sorry for it. He was so intelligent, one of the highest in the year, above many Ravenclaws, and yet she knew his father was constantly displeased because he came below her.  
It was such a shame, Draco could be a truly great person, after all he was a Slytherin and despite the bad reputation of the house not all the qualities were bad - there was nothing wrong with being able to play politics, to be sneaky and ambitious, as long as such traits weren’t used badly. Severus and Rabastan were Slytherin to the core and yet they fought for the light, so she would help Draco if it was at all possible, help him try to escape his father’s shadow and be his own man for once in his life.  
She had not run into him since their conversation in the dungeon, she guessed he was being kept busy by his father and Voldemort, not to mention he believed Severus to be a true servant of Voldemort and likely didn’t want to be seen to be nice, or even curious to Hermione. She knew that both Severus and Rabastan had been keeping tabs on him since she had shared the almost pleasant conversation they’d had while she was in one of the dungeon cells, but they had not mentioned him since and she didn’t bring him up for fear of angering them.

Now they were finally sitting down to discuss what would be done about Draco and she was pleased that she was finally going to discover what Severus and Rabastan had ascertained from his behaviour. Currently, the two wizards appeared locked in a staring contest - the first time this had happened she had been rather concerned, thinking they were ill, but she soon discovered that knowing each other so well meant that, with a little help from Legilimancy and facial expressions, they could have an entire conversation without saying a word. It was damn annoying, but she knew it was a useful skill and so she tolerated it without complaint.  
When the silence was finally broken she was pleased with the words spoken by Severus, “we have agreed to include Draco in our group, though we will only be divulging some of our secrets for the time being - he most certainly doesn’t need to know everything.”  
She guessed she had to agree with that, despite the turnaround in loyalties that Draco must have experienced, it would take a hell of a lot more for him to be granted knowledge of Order secrets, especially such important things as the Horcruxes.  
“We will of course divulge the fact that Rabastan and I are spies and ask him to spy alongside us - he could be especially useful in getting information on Lucius and any possible new recruits from Hogwarts. We will steer clear of any other Order business and ensure he keeps his mouth shut with a little spell of my own intervention.”  
Ah yes, the mysterious spell - Severus had spent hours over the past few weeks working on some project he would tell her nothing about and she was excited to finally find out what it was.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They waited for an evening where Voldemort was occupied elsewhere to invite Draco down. Severus had said that Draco had seemed nervous when the invitation was extended and this was apparently a good sign for them. He would be arriving momentarily, though he had no idea Rabastan would be present, nor that Hermione would actually be happy - as far as he was aware this was a little conversation with his godfather about how his work for Voldemort was going, nothing more.  
Therefore he was rather surprised when, after knocking on the door and being let in by Severus, he found himself watching as Hermione and Rabastan debated the finer points of Polyjuice Potion and Hermione filled her laughing friend in on the trio’s experience with the potion in second year. Severus had a slight frown, but it was barely noticeable with the look of pride he also wore - she might have stolen from him in only her second year, but she had successfully made Polyjuice Potion at age thirteen and he was more than impressed by such a feat.  
Draco was looking between her, Severus and Rabastan with a rather confused look and if the topic they were about to discuss hadn’t been so serious she probably would have started laughing.  
Draco turned to Severus, “just for clarification Severus, Granger is sitting there laughing with Rabastan, is she not?”  
Severus nodded with just a hint of a smirk, “yes Draco.”  
“Right, and she looks completely fine and not like someone who has been tortured or ‘persuaded’ in to helping the Dark Lord?”  
“Correct Draco, anything else you’d like to ask?”  
Draco just shook his head minutely and took a few steps forward before collapsing in a seat, eyes still darting between the other three people in the room as if he had no idea what was going on - Hermione guessed that if she was him she’d be confused too.

Severus sat down opposite Draco and Hermione settled down next to Rabastan to watch as the situation was explained to Draco. He had obviously realised at that point that it wasn’t just a harmless conversation with his godfather, though she wondered whether Slytherins ever had any type of harmless conversation. Severus explained everything they had decided to tell Draco; the planning of Dumbledore’s death, Severus and Rabastan’s true loyalties, how they and Hermione had been working to bring down Voldemort and how Hermione helped them realise that Draco might be capable of leaving the dark for the light.  
Draco took it all very well, or perhaps it was just his Slytherin ability to keep a cool façade despite the things he was told. He was surprised by the fact that Severus and Rabastan were spies, more so the latter. He said that Severus had always seemed slightly more humane than Rabastan and that he’d had a feeling he might be more loyal to Dumbledore than the Death Eaters believed. Draco said he was glad that they had approached him, glad that he had an opportunity to escape something he never really wanted to be a part of to begin with and that he would do what he could to help.  
Hermione was beyond pleased that her instincts had been right about Draco and she felt a little bit like Dumbledore - saving the world one young soul at a time. It was a shame Dumbledore couldn’t save Tom Riddle, maybe then they wouldn’t be in the mess they were now. Still, she hoped they would be able to take him down once and for all, with another spy on their side they would have even more information and perhaps she wouldn’t have to worry about Lucius Malfoy so much now Draco was watching him. He had been disgusted by what his father had done and implied, though he had known his father was a little obsessed he hadn’t realised the extent and had informed Hermione that he would do his best to protect her from his psychotic father.

While Severus and Rabastan went over the spell that would ensure Draco’s silence no matter what, Hermione dragged him to another corner of the room to talk. There was no casual small talk, that was more of a Hufflepuff trait, certainly not a Gryffindor one and Slytherins only ever initiated small talk if there was something in it for them.  
“You’re taking this remarkably well Draco,” she said with smile, “many a wizard would have run screaming at the idea of betraying Voldemort.”  
Draco chuckled, “yes, well I never really wished to follow the Dark Lord and I would like a way to redeem my actions - on that note, why are you being so calm about this, I would have thought you’d fight Severus and Rabastan tooth and nail about me helping.”  
“Perhaps a few years ago I would have, but I noticed how sad and lonely you seemed in sixth year and then after the kind way you spoke to me in the dungeons I asked Severus and Rabastan to consider that you might be willing to turn to the light and help us.”  
He looked at her, a mixture of confusion, awe and happiness in his eyes, “you never cease to amaze me Granger, I would have never thought you’d be able to forgive me after everything I’ve done.”  
She just shrugged, “everyone deserves a second chance Draco, just like everyone deserves to have a true friend. We’re going to be working together now so when its just us,” she gestured to the two of them, along with Rabastan and Severus, “you can call me Hermione, or Mione - steer clear of Mia though, that’s Rabastan’s nickname for me and he’s absurdly protective of it considering its just a name.”  
“Thanks Gran - I mean Hermione, I see you’re already using my first name so I don’t need to ask you to.”  
“Yes, well, I like to differentiate you from your bastard of a father - sorry if that offends you, but I really hate the man and he’s more than a little creepy.”  
“It’s ok, I know he isn’t a nice person, but I’ll be watching him to make sure you stay safe.”  
She nodded, smiling her thanks and he stuck his hand out as if to cement their friendship. She looked at it for a moment before rolling her eyes and hugging him, “no need to be so formal Draco, I’m sure we’ll be working together a lot so we might as well be friends.”  
He smiled, the first genuine grin she’d ever seen on his face, and they rejoined the group as she held back the laughter bubbling on the surface as she saw Rabastan try to placate a jealous Severus.

The spell Severus performed on Draco was an amazing creation of his, though Hermione doubted it would be shared for a while, not until after the war at least. It used concepts from the Fidelius charm - any information that could cause the Order harm, help Voldemort or put any of the light in danger did not technically exist in Draco’s mind. He would always know such information, would always be able to remember it, but it was locked away in his mind and only the caster of the spell - Severus in this case - could set the information free.  
Hermione found it rather funny, for Voldemort could search every inch of Draco’s mind and find nothing incriminating despite the fact that Draco knew the information. Another safeguard was that Draco was unable to speak of the information he learnt except to Severus, Hermione, Rabastan and Kingsley (as a route to the Order if there was trouble).  
The same spell had also been performed on Rabastan, since his occlumency skills were not up to the same level as Severus and Hermione. It wasn’t painless, but Draco had endured many a Crucio and he was used to pain - the twinges he felt from Severus’ spell being performed were nothing to the torture he had received at the hands of Voldemort and his father so he did not complain.  
Hermione gave Severus a small smile when the spell was completed, which he returned with one of his own - she knew he was glad that Draco was on their side - the Veritaserum he had slipped in his drink made sure of that, though they wouldn’t ever be informing Draco of that little fact - and she also knew he was relieved the spells were over and their secrets were safe, things were dangerous enough as it was without leaving even more ways for them to be discovered. 

Draco didn’t stay much longer, his father expected him back from ‘tea’ with Severus soon and there was no reason to make him suspicious so soon. He spent his final few minutes in Severus’ rooms chatting to Rabastan about certain things he should keep a special eye out for when spying while Hermione and Severus spoke in low voices about the progress she had made that day on research - a breakthrough with the R.A.B mystery that she would share once Draco had left.  
As he headed out of the door, after saying goodbye to each of them in turn, Draco looked at her, quirked his eyebrow in Severus’ direction and smirked before disappearing into the corridor. She knew what he was saying - he knew about the relationship between Severus and herself. Stupid Slytherin observation skills - they hadn’t been showcasing their relationship, but neither had they been hiding it so she had been unsure whether Draco would pick up on it - probably Severus’ jealous behaviour that did it. She wouldn’t worry though, Draco could be trusted and people would find out eventually, she was just glad his reaction had been positive rather than the negative she was likely to receive from some people.  
They all sat down together once Draco left to discuss the Horcruxes - they did this every night, and many nights they went away from the conversation frustrated because they had not managed to learn anything truly useful that day. They knew the identity of all the Horcruxes, it was just a matter of finding them and they had to leave that up to the Order, something Severus was eternally unhappy about, since he was firmly of the belief that the majority of the Order were, “wand happy, incompetent fools who have no idea how to research and just want to blow everything up.”  
He conceded that Minerva McGonagall, Remus and Kingsley were half-decent researchers and that the latter and Tonks were competent Aurors, but that was about as far as he would go compliment wise.

“I believe I may have found R.A.B.” she told them happily, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice with the possibility of finding the elusive wizard or witch who stole the real Horcrux and who might give a clue as to the whereabouts of Slytherin’s locket.  
Rabastan laughed at her enthusiasm and Severus leant forward, almost eagerly, “well Hermione,” he drawled silkily, “don’t keep us in suspense.”  
“Regulus Arcturus Black,” she told them, “R.A.B - from the little Sirius and everyone else has said, he was a Death Eater but then got scared and tried to leave, which Voldemort - sorry the Dark Lord, would obviously never let happen.”  
Rabastan nodded, “it would fit, I remember Regulus, a few years below us, he wasn’t a bad kid really, he’d idolised Sirius until they were put into separate houses. Whoever replaced the locket tried to destroy it, but perhaps they didn’t have the chance - what do you think Severus?”  
Severus nodded, “I believe Hermione may be right - I remember Regulus just days before he disappeared, he seemed edgy about something, perhaps he had found out a little about Horcruxes. Hermione said that Potter told her he went to a cave with Albus that had a lake of Inferi - Regulus’ body was never discovered so it is possible he was dragged under, meaning he must have had found some help or the locket went down with him.”  
“Wait,” said Hermione, “when we were cleaning out Grimmauld Place there was a locket somewhere, it had the emblem of Slytherin on. I don’t know whether it got thrown away, or Mundungus stole it, but perhaps Kreacher took it for his hoard.”  
Severus nodded, before Rabastan gasped, “the house elf, their magic is different from ours, Regulus could have brought Kreacher with him and since the Dark Lord doesn’t value what he considers lower beings the cave was probably not protected against house elf magic - Kreacher probably brought the locket back to Grimmauld Place.”

Hermione was excited now, they finally seemed to have figured it out and she was glad that the hours of research had amounted to something other than a big disappointment. She remained quiet as Severus and Rabastan hashed out what they believed had happened and worked out what information to send Kingsley - he would be given the basics and have the task of attempting to bring it up to help the Order realise who R.A.B was.  
Hermione didn’t think it would be difficult for them to bring it up, if someone could mention it to Sirius he should be able to put two and two together. She knew he would be reluctant to talk about his deceased brother, but he would also want to help in the quest to defeat Voldemort and so hopefully it shouldn’t be long before they were questioning Kreacher and Mundungus or searching Grimmauld Place top to bottom.  
Severus promised to send the information the next time he met with Kingsley and he also promised to pass on Hermione’s best wishes and hopes to see the rest of the Order as soon as she could. He wasn’t so happy about that part and she knew it was jealousy again, he was rather possessive, but she also knew he understood her desire to see her friends and was therefore passing on her greetings to the only member who knew the truth about her circumstances.  
They remained quiet for the rest of the evening, engaging in conversation occasionally, but mostly stuck in their own thoughts. Hermione was contemplating how long it might be until she saw her friends again when Rabastan spoke, “don’t you ever worry that we won’t find a way to destroy the bastard. I mean we know what the Horcruxes are, but we don’t know where they all are, not to mention how we’re supposed to kill one of the most deadly wizards even when he is mortal once more - I don’t know how Potter stands the pressure.”  
Hermione sighed, but her face contorted into determination, “I don’t care what it takes, I will ensure Harry survives, that as many of my friends survive as possible - aut viam inveniam aut faciam,” she said with a resolve of steel, “I will either find a way or make one - no matter what this war will end and He will fall.”


	12. Evil & Arrogance Descend

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"Arrogance and rudeness are training wheels on the bicycle of life - for weak people who cannot keep their balance without them."   
Laura Teresa Marquez

“I have good news,” Severus told Hermione and Rabastan, who were waiting eagerly for him to tell them what he had discovered during his meeting with Kingsley.   
“Clues about all the Horcruxes have been given subtly by Shacklebolt and I am relieved to say that the Order managed to figure out who R.A.B was fairly quickly, thanks to Black I’m told, so I guess the mutt is useful for something. They are still working on the others but Shacklebolt says things are going fairly well, though of course they miss you very much Hermione. He also asked me to pass on a letter to you and apologised for its short length.”   
Hermione eagerly leant forward to take the sealed parchment Severus offered to her, excited for any news of her friends. The letter was fairly cheery, though Hermione knew Kingsley was likely to leave anything sad out unless it was important - he wouldn’t want to distress her. Everyone in the Order was alive and well, though Bill and Remus were recovering from minor injuries sustained during a raid, and they were all still missing her terribly. She knew it was a bit selfish to want them to think of her during a time when the war was much more important, but the information that they missed her lifted her spirits and made her feel so much better.  
He also mentioned Sirius’ bittersweet feelings on discovering that his brother had stolen the locket - he was happy that Regulus had turned away from Voldemort, but remained upset over the fact that he had joined Voldemort in the first place and had died just when he turned away from the dark. Kingsley concluded with an apology over the short length of the letter, but said that he couldn’t write too much because anyone could walk in on him, not to mention the huge amount of work he had.

Severus sighed, “I’m afraid that is the extent of my good news - the Dark Lord is planning a number of raids, which will all be executed at the same time to prevent the Order from responding properly. The Order cannot look too prepared though, for only a few of us have prior information about the raids and suspicion would likely fall on me - despite me killing Dumbledore there are those who remained convinced of my disloyalty to the Dark Lord, Bellatrix being one of them. Kingsley will prevent the information as an anonymous tip, but they will only be stationed in the areas of the two main raids and will have to do what they can for the other two locations only when the alarm goes.”   
Hermione nodded, but didn’t say anything, not particularly trusting her voice. This was one of the things she hated most, while not a spy herself it hurt to watch as Severus had to decide what information to send in order to help the light, but still remain free of suspicion. He’d spoken to her once about the difficulties of the choice - deciding who lived and who died. He said he would always have such actions on his conscience and just hoped that his other actions atoned for it.   
The raids were set for the next day and Hermione knew innocent muggles, witches and wizards would die, yet she could do nothing to prevent such events. It was times like this that she wished she could just Avada Voldemort herself, but the Horcruxes, Death Eaters and Harry’s destiny stood in her way so she would just have to wait and hope he reaped his just desserts for all he had caused.

Rabastan left soon after Hermione finished reading her letter, he had a dinner to attend with Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Lucius and Narcissa. The last she saw of him as he left the room was the dark scowl covering his face, showing just how much he was dreading the meal. It was fairly late and since Rabastan had left, Hermione would normally make her way over to Severus and curl up in his arms while she read. However, she was getting fairly good at reading his moods and she knew he was going to be a little brooding and melancholy about the deaths that would occur the next day. Therefore she merely walked over and kissed him on the cheek before retreating to her room. She liked to comfort him when his darkness seemed to shroud him, but she also knew not to smother him - he needed to be alone sometimes, just as she did.   
Now that all the Horcruxes had been identified, all that was left for Hermione to do in that respect was research possible locations. She obviously couldn’t search for them or destroy them, that was the Order’s job, but if she could narrow down locations it would make it easier for them. Since there was only a limited amount she could do on that front, Hermione spent most of her time trying to find a sure way to destroy Voldemort.   
She knew that once the Horcruxes were all destroyed, one Avada Kedavra would theoretically destroy him, but she also knew that Harry was, deep down, very compassionate and she was unsure whether he would have the mental strength to properly cast the spell. She also didn’t know whether Voldemort would have employed other protection methods and so she wanted a method that was sure to kill him.

She hadn’t had much luck with her ‘destroy Voldemort’ plan so far - the best she had come up with was multiple wizards and witches shooting off the killing curse at Voldemort all at once. However, she knew that in the battle scenario there wouldn’t be many people free, not to mention it was supposed to be Harry’s destiny to kill Voldemort and she didn’t think she should mess with that. There were so many books to get through, ones from Severus’ library, the few they had managed to ‘borrow’ from Hogwarts Library and then the ones Rabastan got from the Lestrange Library.   
Of course she was only allowed to read through about half of all the books they had access to due to her status as muggleborn and the nasty habit some of the darker books had of hiding curses that could kill anyone but those of the purest blood. She settled herself on her bed, picking up a rather promising tome about elemental magic, something she doubted Voldemort would think of harnessing, and began to read.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Severus had left for the raids with his usual Death Eater persona firmly in place, though she could detect the hints of anger and regret at what he was about to do. She would have to ensure that she steered clear of him for a few hours after he returned, he’d probably want to work out some anger and it was best if she didn’t get in the way when that happened. He hadn’t been pleased about leaving her alone, especially since Lucius Malfoy had paid his little visit, but Rabastan, for some reason or another, was not going out on the raid and had some free time so he had offered to come down to make sure she was ok.   
If it had been another time, or another person, Hermione would have complained about being ‘babysat’, but she knew that there was genuine danger in the form of Death Eaters and that Severus really was just very protective, wanting to keep her safe, so she accepted what he said without a word of complain. Besides, she liked it when Rabastan came to visit, he was amusing and funny, always managing to lift her spirits almost as well as Severus did.   
She’d spent most of the day researching, knowing that when Rabastan came his cheerful personality and entertaining anecdotes would prevent her getting much, if any, work done. She was just relieved that he was coming for the evening rather than the entire day, for that would mean more wasted research than was wise. 

Rabastan arrived as Severus was leaving and though no words were spoken between the two, Hermione could tell they were having a silent conversation and from the way their eyes kept drifting towards her she knew it was about her - overprotective wizards! In the end though, Severus nodded and turned out of the room, while Rabastan bounded over, reminding her a little of a puppy, and sat down next to her.   
He only paused for a moment before launching into a most humorous story about how a teenage Bellatrix had found herself on the receiving end of a prank by Sirius (secretly assisted by Andromeda) that had resulted in her being covered from head to foot in mud that took her six hours to completely vanish.  
Hermione normally found it difficult to discuss any Death Eaters, but the way Rabastan told stories was fascinating and she loved tales of the harmless pranks pulled at the expense of Rabastan and Sirius’ more evil relatives. Also funny was hearing about how Bellatrix had screamed like a baby, but then again, from what Hermione had seen and heard she had always been a little melodramatic.   
Yes, she had promised herself that should she survive to the battle and find herself faced with Bellatrix, she would taunt her with the knowledge of pranks Sirius had played on her - it was a sure fire way to get the insane Lestrange woman angry, and therefore more likely to make mistakes.

They passed an hour in such a way and Hermione was just relaxing a little more, sure that Severus’ overprotective tendencies were just him being too cautious, when a series of events began to unfold that would prove just how right Severus had been to try so hard to protect her. It started with something that never boded well - Rabastan’s dark mark burned. This wasn’t normally a hugely important occurrence, Hermione had seen it happen often enough, though it never prevented the pangs of sadness and anger she felt whenever Severus or Rabastan were summoned, and normally Rabastan would leave her and Severus to research and things would go on as normal.   
The problem was that Severus was at the raid and so Rabastan leaving would mean no one there to make sure she was ok. She’d heard Severus and Rabastan talking about how Lucius Malfoy wasn’t going on the raid and she knew that meant he could try and find her again. Rabastan looked at her with worried eyes, he could not ignore Voldemort’s call, to do so almost always meant death, but he did not want to leave her unprotected, especially when Severus would not be back for a few hours and Merlin knew how long Voldemort would keep Rabastan working.

“You have to go,” she told him, when she saw signs of his hesitance to leave her, “its practically a death sentence if you ignore it and you know He won’t allow anyone to kill me yet. I won’t let you die for me, especially when it would accomplish nothing but losing a loyal friend.”   
Rabastan looked conflicted for a moment, but gave a resigned nod, “I suppose it wouldn’t do any good for me to get myself killed, but Mia you have to promise me that you’ll be on your guard. The door will be locked but if someone knocks you’ll have to answer or the Dark Lord will be informed and you will likely end up punished. It’s best that you stay under his radar and work quietly, no need to draw attention to yourself or he might want to see results that we don’t want him getting his hands on, at least not just yet.”   
That was true, their research was really a double edged sword, if they put it in Harry’s hands it could be the key to bringing down Voldemort, but since it wasn’t specific on the person it could do just as much damage to the light side if Voldemort got hold of it. She’d contemplated so many times about how they could just get Severus to slip Voldemort a potion, or give him something they could say would make him invincible, but which would actually kill him.   
Unfortunately, the chances of such plans working was practically zero - Voldemort ate very little, from what Severus told her, due mostly to his soul being split, and what he ate was tasted by unfortunate Death Eaters. Also, he would never drink a potion without extensively studying it beforehand and he was a remarkably intelligent wizard, meaning it would be unlikely to fool him and attempts to kill him would likely result in both she and Severus being killed.

Rabastan conjured his black robes and silver mask, grimacing as he put them on, before leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Be safe Mia,” he told her before he grabbed his wand from the table and left the room, leaving silence behind him.   
Hermione knew she wouldn’t get much done until either Severus or Rabastan returned, the latter being called to Voldemort had dampened her mood slightly and she knew she would be too distracted worrying about them to do much research. Nevertheless, she pulled some books and notes out and tried to work, after all so many lives depended on the information they discovered, not to mention the fact that the light’s victory hung mainly on whether they were able to find a way to destroy Voldemort.   
Hermione had felt the pressure of responsibility and expectations her whole life, but this was by far the most important incident of such expectation and she knew how terrible the consequences would be should she, and the Order, fail to kill Voldemort. She shivered slightly as she thought about the deaths that could occur, the bodies laid out across fields and her friends surrounded in blood.   
She shook herself out of it when her thoughts got a little too graphic for her to deal with, and turned back to her work. They would succeed, she wouldn’t allow them not to - too much hung on it and she couldn’t let everyone down.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Things had been quiet for the two hours since Rabastan left and Hermione had surprised herself by being able to get a decent amount of work done. She had just decided to pack up and go to her room to read for a little bit when there was a knock on the door that made her jump.   
It could just be Rabastan, she thought, it obviously wasn’t Severus as it was his room, but Rabastan sometimes knocked, despite the fact that he knows the spells to get in, to make sure he’s not interrupting anything.   
But he normally calls out, says that it’s him.   
She swore under her breath, trying to cover her fear, now faced with the high possibility that there was an unfriendly Death Eater waiting outside the door that she had to answer. She took slow steps towards the door, wishing to prolong whatever confrontation, likely to be unpleasant, was waiting for her behind it. With each step she took a hundred possibilities ran through her head - they could be taking her to Voldemort to be killed, perhaps they had discovered Severus and Rabastan’s true loyalties, or perhaps they were just there to taunt her, or torture her.   
She covered the last metre with her mind full of worries and opened the door with trepidation. As she took in the figure in front of her, her fear was confirmed - Lucius Malfoy stood there in all his blond glory and arrogance.

She couldn’t count the number of swearwords that went through her head at that moment, but she knew that, if they heard, Sirius would be impressed and Molly shocked. She wasn’t quite sure what she should do, but decided to stick to the plan she, Severus and Rabastan had created in case of visiting Death Eaters.   
She bowed her head in a slightly submissive gesture and tried not to show her distaste, “Mr Malfoy, what are you doing here, Snape has gone on a raid if it was him you were looking for.”   
They had debated over how she should refer to him, Severus seemed to intimate, especially when he was supposed to be the one ‘disciplining’ her, while Professor Snape was incorrect since he was no longer her teacher - therefore Snape it was. Lucius sneered down at her as he always had, but there was something else in his expression, something that frightened her and made her wish she could escape the room. But for the sake of Severus and Rabastan’s wellbeing, as well as her own life, she remained silent while Lucius looked at her with intense silver eyes, so similar to Sirius' and yet a lot colder. 

“I am aware that Severus is not here right now Miss Granger, it is in fact the reason I decided to come and pay this little … visit. I would have come and seen you earlier, but Severus is so protective over his little toys and I don’t fancy getting into a fight with him, the Dark Lord would likely be displeased since your use has not yet run out.”   
He paused for a moment and trailed his finger along her cheek and down her neck while she struggled not to shudder, “however, I am sure that when Potter and his little band of delusional fools fall then the Dark Lord will reward me for my loyal services - I am sure you can guess what I wish that reward to be.”   
She couldn’t hide her disgust now and her facial expression showed it, something that wasn’t pleasing to the proud Lucius Malfoy. He shifted his snakehead cane from his right hand to his left in only a second and then she felt a sting as he slapped her hard across the face, “I do not respond well to impudence,” he told her, “I don’t know why Severus hasn’t beaten it out of you yet, but perhaps he likes them feisty. Still, you will soon be cured of such behaviour, I will make sure of it.”   
Damn it she really wanted to kill that man, he was right on the top of her list, right below Voldemort and Bellatrix.

Don’t be such a dunderhead Hermione, you’re better than that and you can certainly survive Lucius Malfoy until Rabastan or I return.   
Great - now she was hearing Severus’ voice in her head, though she had to admit it was rather realistic, right down to the sarcastic tone. Well she wouldn’t let herself get shown up by Severus, even if he was currently just an imaginary voice in her head and probably a sign of delusion. She tilted her head up to look at the elder Malfoy, her eyes burning with the flame of anger and showing none of the defeat he probably hoped for.   
“I can assure you Mr Malfoy, my friends are in no way delusional and no matter what you, or Snape, or anyone else tries to force me to do, they will succeed and you and your prejudiced friends will fall a long way.”   
She expected the second slap, though it didn’t stop the pain that seared through her cheek - one thing she had to hand to Malfoy was that he had a mean right hook. She idly wondered if this was karma for the time she’d smacked Draco back in third year, but she didn’t think so - he had deserved it at the time and unless someone was going by Voldemort’s beliefs she didn’t deserve either of Malfoy’s slaps. 

Well obviously you don’t deserve it Hermione, an idiot could figure that out and you are anything but. Now you might want to start paying attention, zoning out when Lucius is concerned is never a wise move.   
She listened to the voice whispering in a silky tone within her head - possibly a sign of madness, but it was making sense. Lucius was still sneering at her, but he seemed to be contemplating his next move and she wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing. Perhaps he would realise it was best to leave her alone, she didn’t know about him, but she wouldn’t want to face Severus or Voldemort’s wrath. Of course he could just be thinking ‘fuck it’ and could end up almost killing her.   
She waited silently for his decision, unable to do anything since she couldn’t showcase the fact that she knew wandless magic. By this time he had pushed her into the room and she was stood by the chairs, one of her wrists encased in his hand. He looked like he had just made a decision, one which, by the look on his face, boded ill for her, when there was a noise behind them and Malfoy moved slightly to reveal a furious Severus. Hermione didn’t care that his dark eyes promised retribution, she knew it was not directed towards her and all she felt was relief that he could save her from Lucius. Lucius seemed to understand and he released her wrist and followed Severus outside of the room. The door swung shut, she collapsed on the sofa and she heard as the shouting began outside the room.

She remained tense, sat there waiting to find out what was going on, for ten minutes, and she couldn’t be more happy when the door opened and only Severus entered. He hurried over to her and pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her softly. It was more gentle than normal and she appreciated the gesture. He explained that he’d returned to see Rabastan with Voldemort and had realised he must have been called. He said that he’d had ‘words’ with Lucius, making sure he wouldn’t go near her again, though both Severus and Hermione knew how little they could trust Malfoy’s word.   
Severus said he would ensure Draco kept even closer tabs on his father - he revealed, rather reluctantly considering Severus was normally very blunt, that he had taken a peek in Lucius’ mind using legilimency and had found some rather disgusting things involving her there. Hermione didn’t want to be anywhere near him if possible and Severus reinforced the idea, saying he would ‘persuade’ Lucius to keep away, at least for a while.  
Rabastan burst into the room in full panic mode about half an hour after Severus had arrived, full of apologies despite the fact that it hadn’t been his fault he had been summoned by his sadistic master, nor had he caused Lucius Malfoy to arrive with a mind full of bad intentions.

Both of them were furious at the two handprint shaped bruises beginning to blossom on her cheek and she only prevented them disappearing to kill Malfoy by reminding them that Rabastan should show no concern for her and that Severus’ worry should extend to not wanting the Dark Lord’s property damaged when it still had use.   
“I’m just happy that you got here in time,” she told Severus, “and I’m glad you answered the summons and didn’t get yourself killed Rabastan.”   
It was true, others would be angry that Lucius had been able to get so close, but she knew it was neither Severus nor Rabastan’s faults and she wouldn’t blame them.   
“Lucius Malfoy is an arrogant, ignorant pig of a wizard and we are all above him in so many ways. We will win the war and he will see where he went wrong. I am only thankful that Draco realised how wrong his beliefs were and has begun steps towards changing his allegiance. Trust me, Lucius Malfoy is the least of our problems right now.”  
A week later, Hermione would remember that statement and cry bitterly about how right it was - about how she wished Malfoy had been their biggest worry, because something would happen that would rock her world entirely in a way she would never fully recover from.


	13. An Unforgivable Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tragedy strikes ...

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“It is not length of life, but depth of life.”   
Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Mercy, mercy,” Hermione squealed, laughing hysterically as Rabastan tickled her unrelentlessly on the sofa.   
She was enjoying one of the rare light-hearted moments at Voldemort’s headquarters since their research was over for the day and she could relax a little. Severus had been called away by Voldemort to do things Hermione would rather not think about, but Rabastan was free and had come to spend some time with her - he and Severus had been extra vigilant since the incident with Lucius Malfoy. Rabastan had helped her throw off the worries almost constantly plaguing her with a combination and lots of amusing stories and distracting her with bouts of tickling and teasing.   
Thankfully, in the week that had passed since Malfoy’s visit, they hadn’t had any more problems with him. Draco had come down for a visit earlier when Severus was still there, under the guise of another conversation with his godfather, and had spent more than five minutes straight apologising for his father’s actions. Once she’d got over the shock of Draco Malfoy apologising to her of all people, she assured him that it wasn’t his fault and that she doubted he could have prevented.   
Draco told them that his father had seemed to understand Snape’s warnings and hadn’t said anything more about going near Hermione. He had apparently thrown himself into other Death Eater activities and, while she wasn’t pleased at the thought of what such activities might entail, she was pleased that he appeared to be putting his sick little obsession with her to one side, at least for the moment.

She was brought back to the present as Rabastan began a new tickling assault, “do you definitely give up then Mia, I don’t think I heard you.”   
She stuck her tongue out, reverting to a five year old mentality at his teasing, “I give Rabastan, ok.”   
He nodded and thankfully relinquished his hold on her, allowing her to get her breath back and give him a playful glare, “you are just evil Rabastan, you know how ticklish I am,” she said, “I know that I agreed that one should always look to an enemy’s weaknesses, but I really didn’t need a demonstration.”  
He shrugged, “I like to make you laugh,” he told her in a tone that bordered on serious, “you don’t smile enough Mia. You’re happy when Severus is around, when I’m here and sometimes even when Draco’s around, but you miss your friends and while I obviously wouldn’t condone forgetting about them, there is nothing wrong with being happy occasionally - Merlin knows you need it when you're stuck in such a dire place as this.”  
Hermione gave him a soft smile and hugged him gently, she sometimes forgot that Rabastan could be serious and that he was very intelligent - he so often hid it behind jokes and laughs - but he knew her well and she knew he was right, she should try and be a little more animated.

Seemingly satisfied that his lecture had been properly delivered and received, Rabastan dropped his serious persona and was soon back to the fun loving wizard of ten minutes previously. It did sometimes amaze her how he could switch from acting like an adult to behaving like a child in the space of five seconds, but sadly she knew his spy work within the Death Eaters meant he had to be able to quickly switch from his normal personality to the sadistic death eater persona that he had long since perfected.   
“I know what you’re thinking Mia,” he said with a laugh, “and the answer to your unspoken question is that I am just amazing and talented, therefore I am able to easily go from actually acting like an grown wizard to working on the maturity level of a five year old - plus its fun to let loose occasionally.”   
She smiled at him, yet another great thing about Rabastan was that he seemed to have the ability to read her mind - it obviously wasn’t Legilimency, he would never invade her mind without permission even if he could - he just knew her well enough to normally know what she was thinking, especially since he said her facial expressions often gave her away. She might hate Voldemort, especially since he had taken her away from her friends, but she couldn’t help but be glad that she’d had the chance to fall for Severus and become friends with Rabastan - they meant so much to her and, as with her other friends, she didn’t know what she would do if she lost them. 

Half an hour later Rabastan’s stories had petered off and both he and Hermione were sat on the sofa, her head leaning on one of the arms while her legs lay sprawled across Rabastan’s lap. To many it would have seemed an intimate position, especially since Rabastan was rubbing her feet in a comforting manner, but really he was just trying to get Hermione to relax - she doubted either of them would ever think of the other in a romantic way, they were incredibly good friends but it was purely platonic.   
Thinking about it, Hermione guessed that Rabastan was probably the only man Severus would trust to sit with her as they were now - with anyone else he’d probably see it as too much of an opportunity to touch her, but he trusted Rabastan beyond any other and Hermione was pleased that his distressing experiences from childhood to adulthood hadn‘t prevented him forming such a strong friendship.   
She hummed softly to herself as she lay on the sofa, a mindless, unrecognisable tune which, along with the gentle foot massage Rabastan was giving, calmed her immensely and helped her drift off to sleep about ten minutes later.

Her dreams were disturbing that night - she tossed and turned and, from the snippets of conversation she could hear from Severus and Rabastan during one of her more ‘awake’ moments, she mumbled as well. Hermione rarely remembered her dreams unless they were about significant events such as being petrified or the battle at the Department of Mysteries, but she would vividly remember her dreams from that night for years to come. It seemed like it was the same scene playing over and over again in front of her eyes, while she stood there powerless to stop it.   
She was in the darkness watching as a figure in Death Eater garb stepped forward and brandished their wand at an unknown figure. A moment later there was the telltale green flash of the Avada Kedavra curse and the figure collapsed to the floor in a motionless heap. Hermione screamed and cried, struggling to escape the invisible hands holding her back from going to the body. She couldn’t tell who it was, but somehow she knew that it was someone who was very important to her, someone she couldn’t save.   
She expected to wake up screaming every time, but she didn’t, just watched the same scene over and over again until she felt exhausted despite the fact that she was still sleeping. When she eventually awoke, feeling more tired than she had the night before, both Severus and Rabastan were there, looking at her with concern. She downplayed the dreams, just saying she was worrying about her friends and trying not to see the scepticism in their eyes as they took in her rumpled appearance, the dark circles under his eyes and the tear tracks down her cheeks.   
Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was going to happen.

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The morning passed in a blur, with Hermione paying only the bare minimum of attention to her work, Severus - she had still not come up with a suitable name since boyfriend seemed too juvenile and lover too casual - and Rabastan. They noticed, trained to see the subtlest details, but they thankfully seemed to understand that she needed a little bit of a lazy day after her troubling night. She felt guilty, the Final Battle was drawing forever closer, but her exhaustion meant that she just couldn’t bring herself to care.   
She didn’t do much work except for looking more at elemental magic - the harnessing of the natural elements of earth, wind, fire and water. Wind was the least useful of them all, while water and fire were dangerous to try and control, something often seen when people ended up hurt or killed trying to use magic like Fiendfyre.   
That left them with earth and Hermione thought that this would be the best element to try and control - their battleground would likely end up being Hogwarts or a large open space, both of which had easy access to the earth. Most witches and wizards would be able to do the simple elemental magic of creating mounds to hide behind or uneven ground to trip opponents, while the more skilled would be able to create chasms in the ground to catch enemies and also to control life that came from the earth - getting trees to pick up their roots and start moving or having plants wrap around enemies.   
She scribbled down notes quickly, thankful to have found something to keep her mind of the worrying dreams and feelings of dread - elemental magic was something Voldemort wouldn’t be likely to think of using, he tended to stick to straightforward magic and firmly believed in his own superiority, thinking that if he didn’t use it no one else would either. It could definitely give them an edge in the battle and she made a mental note to discuss it with Severus and Rabastan as soon as possible. 

She had a little nap after lunch to try and make up her sleep, but the two hours she lay on her bed were spent weaving in and out of an uneasy sleep and when she finally got back up she was only a little more awake. She did a little more work but eventually abandoned it in favour of curling up in Severus’ lap, reading Sense & Sensibility while he looked through obscure Potions journals and occasionally leant down to kiss her.   
The peace and quiet was disturbed slightly when Rabastan returned from an unavoidable meeting with his brother in a rather bad mood. However, Hermione’s gentle questioning and Severus’ straightforward insistence that Rodolphus was a waste of space soon revived his mood and he began looking through the notes Hermione gave him on elemental magic. Both wizards agreed with her that elemental magic could be very useful and Severus said he would mention it to Kingsley the next time they met. While Hermione wouldn’t really be able to practice such magic while in Voldemort’s headquarters, she was powerful and clever enough to be able to do it with little or no practice and so they didn’t worry much about her needing practice.   
As Hermione read through her book, she began to read it with new eyes, seeing just how perfect Severus might be for the character of Colonel Brandon, who seemed an awful lot like the Potions expert, though of course Brandon was not nearly as sarcastic and severe as Severus, but she wouldn’t have him any other way. 

She was stirred from her reading when Severus and Rabastan hissed in pain simultaneously, their hands immediately gripping the arms she knew were marred by the Dark Mark. They both looked at her and she sighed, “I know you don’t want to leave, but how many times are we going to have this conversation - you cannot refuse to answer His summons or you’ll die and all our work will be for nothing. Go and come back as quickly as possible, if someone comes then I will handle it, but it seems a universal summons so I don‘t think I need to worry.”   
Rabastan nodded reluctantly and stood, but Severus was a little more difficult to convince and in the end she had to team up with Rabastan, both threatening to start hexing if he didn’t move quickly. While Severus would quite possibly be able to take both of them on in a fight, he rolled his eyes, looked once more at her with worried eyes and stood up. She kissed him goodbye and practically shoved the two wizards out of the door.   
She didn’t want them to go, though she wasn’t about to tell them that because they really would be in danger if they stayed. Normally she wouldn’t have minded so much, but her dreams and sense of foreboding had her on edge and she was struggling to keep a calm façade in front of them. She relaxed a little when they finally left, the door swinging shut behind them and magically locking, she didn’t have to pretend to be fine with being alone.

As soon as they were out of the door she collapsed into an armchair, wishing Severus was there to curl up with and cursing Voldemort with even more vigour than she usually did. She didn’t think she could concentrate on research, but she also didn’t want to be pathetic enough to just sit and wait for Severus and Rabastan to return. She had become too reliant on the two of them during her time in Voldemort’s headquarters and while she knew there was nothing wrong with leaning on someone for support occasionally, she also knew that she needed to return to a higher level of independence if she wanted to be strong enough for the final battle.   
With those thoughts in mind Hermione stood, determined not to mope, and decided to practice some wandless magic. She was now at almost the same level in wandless magic that she was doing magic with a wand, but she was determined to improve further. While Severus said he was sure they’d be able to obtain a new wand for her in time for the battle, Hermione knew that sometimes plans changed and she didn’t want to leave her magical strength to chance. The practicing also had the effect of taking her mind off the worry she felt for both Severus and Rabastan, along with reducing the panic that had set in and remained firmly ingrained ever since the creepy dream of the night before. 

She practiced hard for almost two hours before she was too tired to do more. With the little sleep she’d had recently she was surprised she’d managed for so long - wandless magic, especially when using complex spells, was incredibly draining and Hermione reminded herself that if she didn’t get a wand before the battle she would have to ensure she got plenty of sleep beforehand or she could end up just collapsing on the battlefield, obviously an outcome no one would want.   
She briefly considered another nap, but she knew it wouldn’t be peaceful and she had no desire to revisit her dreams, so she lay on the sofa, daydreaming about what it might be like when the war was over and when, if things went well, all her friends were there with her. Occasionally she would pick up a Potions journal or one of the thinner books and flick through it, but nothing could really hold her attention for too long and she would inevitably end up staring at the door, as if Severus and Rabastan would come back quicker if she did.   
There were a few occasions when her eyes drooped and she was tempted to let herself succumb to sleep, but she had a feeling that if she did she would feel worse when she woke up and so she always shook herself awake, once even resorting to dousing herself in water to stop herself falling into the arms of Morpheus. 

When the door clicked and swung open there was a moment of fear - what if it was Lucius Malfoy or some other true death eater? However, it was Severus and Rabastan who walked through the door and Hermione felt the worry dissipate, that is until she saw their faces. Both men were hunched over, something which was strange in both cases as Severus seemed to glide with a sneer for everyone, while Rabastan always made deliberate steps, not the shy ones he appeared to be making now. Their expressions looked more horrified and worried than they had any time Hermione had seen them and suddenly the fear was back in full force, right along with panic. She stood immediately, shaking her head desperately, for there was surely only one thing that could cause such expressions - someone had died.   
“What happened? It can’t be what I think it is, you’re just tired of Death Eater activities, that must be it.”   
She was almost crying now, trying to find another reason for the depression shown across both of the faces in front of her.   
They shook their heads and Severus stepped forward, gripping her hand gently, “I’m so sorry Hermione, we weren’t there so we couldn’t stop it, there were multiple attacks and they got your parents … your parents and Ron Weasley.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ron - he couldn’t be dead, it was an elaborate joke, it had to be. It wasn’t possible that Ron was dead because he’d promised her he would survive. She remembered the night before Bill and Fleur’s wedding, when she, Ron and Harry had stood together and promised each other that they would make it through the war together and come out alive. They hadn’t been overly serious, at the time, despite Dumbledore’s death, they had been buoyed by Sirius’ return and were sure that as soon as they destroyed the Horcruxes they would be able to defeat Voldemort and live without fear.   
It was only after she was captured that she realised just how likely it was that many of them could die in the struggle to get rid of Voldemort, and the incidents with Voldemort and Lucius made her painfully aware of her own mortality. However, she had never considered that Ron might die, she knew that her place as prisoner and Harry’s as the ’Chosen One’ put them in more danger, but she assumed Ron, at least, would make it through the war unscarred and she now realised just how wrong she had been.   
She was vaguely aware of Severus and Rabastan talking frantically around her, but her grief had caused her to retreat far into her mind and all she could do was sob. 

She could admit to herself that she was not as upset about the death of her parents as she should be, it was not nearly as devastating to her as Ron’s death. There were many reasons for this, one being that she had been subconsciously preparing herself for such news since Voldemort’s return at the end of her fourth year. She was a muggleborn, Harry Potter’s best friend and a staunch supporter and fighter for the light, therefore she knew both she and her immediate family would likely be targets. Since she was at Hogwarts most of the year and much more protected then her parents were obvious targets.   
While this reduced the shock of their deaths, there were other factors that removed much of the sorrow. Her parents had left her very much alone for much of her childhood and this, along with all the time spent at Hogwarts, meant that she wasn’t nearly as close to her parents as she was to her friends and the Order, who had watched her grow from a bushy-haired, bucktoothed know-it-all to a more confident, intelligent witch.   
Her parents had never been hugely fond of her, they wanted a normal child who could have followed them into dentistry, not a peculiar girl who went off to a castle in Scotland to learn magic. She would mourn two innocent lives lost because of the war, but she would mourn them as she would distant relatives she rarely saw, not parents she would fall apart without. 

Ron was another matter entirely and she knew that, no matter how many years passed, she would never truly get over his death. Ever since their first year, bar the first few rocky months, it had been the three of them - Harry, Ron and Hermione - the ‘Golden Trio’ as they were dubbed. Without Ron the trio would no longer exist and while she loved Harry with all she had, they would never truly be whole without Ron. No matter who else had joined their little group over the years - Ginny, Neville and Luna - it had always come down to the three of them; even when she had been incapacitated by the Basilisk her research had still assisted.   
Hermione had once come along a discussion of soul mates in one of her many books and it had fascinated her, especially when it mentioned the possibility of multiple soul mates. She knew that muggles often saw soul mates in a romantic manner, but in the wizarding world it was more than that - like sharing souls. She had known instantly that this was the connection the trio shared - each one third of a whole soul - and Ron’s death would therefore have a permanent effect on both of them. 

Harry, poor Harry, she couldn’t imagine how he was feeling right now - one best friend dead and the other one still captive in Voldemort’s fortress and held by a wizard he still believed to be a traitor. She and Ron had experienced their ups and downs over the years, but only once, during the beginning of the Triwizard Tournament, had Harry and Ron had a real argument - she could barely imagine what the loss was doing to him.   
Harry had always been afraid to lose his friends, the time he had spent with the Dursleys had convinced him he was unworthy of attention and every true friendship was precious to him. He would blame himself, she was sure of it, believing that it was he who had drawn Ron into the war and caused his death. She doubted he would ever truly forgive himself, and if he did it would certainly take a long time, but she vowed that if … no when, she saw him again she would do her best to convince him it wasn’t his fault.   
Voldemort, his Death Eaters and their sick ideas were totally at fault, the Weasleys had always been a light family and Ron would have been drawn into the war anyway, not to mention that she doubted he would have given up his friendship with Harry. She knew she would gladly die to help win the war, though of course she would be afraid, and she knew Ron was no different. She would not let his death be in vain and she would ensure the war was won and Ron’s sacrifice was never forgotten.

She wasn’t quite sure how she was going to face the Weasleys when she finally got to see them again. Molly would be devastated and though Arthur wouldn’t show it quite so much, he would be equally upset. While Fred, George and Ginny often complained about Ron, she knew they would be hard hit by his death and she could only hope the twins could help each other, while Harry and Ginny would hopefully have each other to lean on. Bill and Charlie would be stoic, trying to be strong for their parents and siblings, but they would also be hurt, especially considering how much Ron had looked up to them, constantly talking about the cool curse breaker who worked and Gringotts and his dragon tamer brother, who could have played Quidditch for England if he hadn’t gone off chasing dragons.   
The only reaction she was uncertain of was Percy’s, for she hadn’t seen him in years and he was spoken of rarely after he had refused to believe Voldemort had returned. She found she did not care though, for Percy had been horrid to his family and while she knew he may be a little misguided, she also thought he should have been there for his family.

Ron was gone and there were so many things that should have been said, things that could now only ever be said to a hard, cold gravestone. Percy would never get the chance to apologise, Fred and George would never get to pull another prank on their unsuspecting brother, Harry would never have the chance to lose another chess game to the boy who had beaten McGonagall’s in their first year, Ginny would never get to rib him over his short-lived relationship with Lavender, Molly would never get to shove inordinate amounts of food onto his plate and she would never have the chance to tell him just how much she loved him, how much she would miss him, how brave he was and how, despite the arguments, he was a brilliant friend.   
So many regrets, so much that should have been said, and then the underlying guilt that she felt. Though she knew in her heart that Ron’s death was not her fault, she couldn’t help but think that maybe if she hadn’t been captured, if she had been there with the Order, then perhaps she could have prevented Ron’s death. That line of thought just brought more despair and it took her a while before she was able to push away the fog of misery surrounding her and return to reality. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As she ‘awoke’ and finally became aware of her surroundings again, she realised that someone had moved her onto the sofa and she was lying there, head leaning on one of the soft pillows from her bedroom. Severus was pacing and his face showed the stress he was feeling, while Rabastan was sat tensely in an armchair. She sat up gingerly, fully aware of her red eyes and the tear tracks across her face, and both wizards looked to her instantly, the relief that she was back in reality evident.   
Severus was first to get to her, “I am sorry Hermione, we would have tried to stop it, but everything had already happened by the time we were called to the meeting and it took a while before He let us go … he wanted to gloat.”   
She nodded mutely, she didn’t blame them, despite Severus labelling Ron a dunderhead he would not have let him die if he could have prevented it - both wizards knew how much Ron meant to her.   
“Who did it?” she asked quietly, “which bastard took away one of my best friends?”   
Severus sighed as if he had been expecting the question, and he knew better than to try and keep the information away from her, “I am unsure who killed your parents, the Death Eaters attacked your whole street and about ten muggles died, all adults,” he told her.   
She took some comfort from the fact that no children had died, but she knew she would probably know each of the dead and she silently said a prayer for each of the deceased.   
“As for Ron Weasley, we know for sure who murdered him - it was Antonin Dolohov.” 

Hermione gasped - Dolohov, the one who had hit her with a spell at the Department of Mysteries, causing her to need about a dozen potions for a month or so afterwards and giving her a scar that would never fully heal … and he had killed Ron. Severus looked angry, he had been the one to make her potions and of course he knew about the Department of Mysteries debacle.   
Rabastan was confused though, not having heard the story, and Hermione clarified for him, “Dolohov hit me with his own version of a cutting curse during the fight at the Department of Mysteries,” she told him, “it should have killed me but I’d silenced him beforehand and so the spell was weakened. I was still in the hospital wing for about a week afterwards and had to take loads of potions, I’ve still got the scar,” she said softly, lifting the hem of her shirt to show the jagged line about five inches long.   
Rabastan hissed in anger as Severus scowled at the sight of her scar, “he attacked me and he killed Ron,” she said angrily, “I am going to make sure he pays dearly for all the pain he has been the cause of.”

Severus and Rabastan exchanged concerned glances, apparently not liking the look in her eyes as she promised retribution on the wizard who had killed Ron.   
She turned to them with fire in her eyes, “I am perfectly serious,” she told them, “that piece of scum is going to get what’s coming to him and I am going to be the one to deliver his punishment. If you want to help then fine, but if you don’t then please just stay out of my way because I’m going to get him, no matter who and what stands in my way.”   
Both wizards were shocked by the violence her tone promised, but they also knew that she was fiercely protective of those she loved and Dolohov had taken a wizard she considered her family away from her. Hermione knew they were worried about her, she was grieving, very distressed and she had also been hysterical, but she wasn’t kidding about revenge. Normally she was not a violent person, unless you could punching Draco in third year, but desperate times called for desperate measures.  
In that moment, Hermione knew three things for certain; Ron would not be forgotten, his death would not be in vain and she would ensure that the wizard who had killed her best friend would pay with his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for killing Ron - I didn’t want to write such a tragedy for Hermione, but it was necessary to show the loss that war inevitably brings. To be honest, I don't like Ron's character a lot of the time, and some of my other stories rather bash him. But since in this one I wrote him as a good friend (even if he hasn't been in it much), it is a loss to Hermione.


	14. Stain On Her Soul - Justice Prevailing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking ages to update this but I've just been busy with work and holidays. Hopefully it should all be up here soon enough, but if you don't want to wait then go to my profile for direction to my fanfiction.net account, which has this story in its entirety, as well as a few others I don't have posted here on AO3.

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“Not life, but good life, is to be chiefly valued.”   
Socrates

“I’m so sorry Hermione, we weren’t there so we couldn’t stop it, there were multiple attacks and they got your parents … your parents and Ron Weasley.”   
Ron was gone and there were so many things that should have been said, things that could now only ever be said to a hard, cold gravestone.   
“As for Ron Weasley, we know for sure who murdered him - it was Antonin Dolohov.”   
Hermione knew three things for certain; Ron would not be forgotten, his death would not be in vain and she would ensure that the wizard who had killed her best friend would pay with his life.

Severus and Rabastan were determined to talk her out of her plans, saying that Ron wouldn’t want her to put herself in danger.  
That had made her angry - Ron wasn’t around to tell her what to do anymore, because of Dolohov, and she wasn’t about to let that slide. They gave her so many reasons not to go after the bastard; you’ll get hurt, what if the Dark Lord or some other Death Eater finds out, and the most serious worry, you don’t realise what casting the Avada Kedavra spell does to you as a person. She would not be dissuaded though, determined to avenge Ron’s death even if it meant placing herself and her mental well being in jeopardy.  
When Draco burst through the door, breathless after running all the way down to Severus’ quarters once his father told him the news, they tried to drag him into it too, asking him to help persuade Hermione to stay safe in Severus’ rooms. That was a bit of a miscalculation on their part, for Draco took Hermione’s side entirely, reminding them that after the incidents involving Lucius, it was obvious that Severus’ quarters wouldn’t be entirely safe. Draco also pointed out that she was perfectly entitled to wish for revenge and that he would help her in any way he could.  
Severus and Rabastan had persisted in their attempts to stop her from following through with her plans despite Draco taking her side - they knew that Draco had thankfully never had to cast Avada Kedavra since he failed to kill Dumbledore, which meant he was probably not completely aware of the detrimental effect it could have on a witch or wizard’s mental well-being if not handled properly.

Severus and Rabastan both knew first-hand what happened when you cast the killing curse. It was supposed to rip your soul apart, which is why murder was the key to creating Horcruxes. A part of your soul would only detach fully if the Horcrux ritual was done, binding the broken piece of soul into an object, if the ritual was not done then any murder would just begin to decay your soul, like a diseased heart.  
There were ways to heal your soul of course, after all while there was a distinct lack of religion in the magical world, they still tended to believe in an afterlife and the possibility of eternal damnation. Such a process was long and painful, involving remorse and an attempt to make up for the bad deeds done.  
Both Severus and Rabastan still had slightly damaged souls despite the long years spent spying for the light side and they didn’t know whether Hermione would be able to cope with such a dark deed. Still, their struggle would be nothing compared to the one that Voldemort would have if he was ever inclined to try and piece his tattered soul back together. While their souls were merely cracked, his was totally broken and the process of putting it back together would mean he would have to feel true remorse - the pain of such an attempt could end up killing him.  
Hermione knew Harry would probably want to offer Voldemort such a last chance, but she wasn’t sure she would be happy with that - the monster had caused so much pain and she really didn’t think he deserved such a courtesy.

“Hermione, are you even listening to a word I’m saying?”  
Severus’ words brought her back to earth with a bump as she was drawn away from her many fantasies involving the painful deaths of Voldemort and Dolohov. She blushed sheepishly, “sorry Severus, but it doesn’t matter what you or Rabastan say, I am going to find Dolohov and he’s going to pay. I know it's stupid and something I’d never normally do, but desperate times call for desperate measures and I want the Weasleys to know that the scum who killed Ron is no longer out there, it’ll help them have a little closure.”  
Severus sighed, but she knew she had him, he couldn’t exactly lecture her because in her position he would likely do the same thing.  
She knew he was only trying to protect her, but she had to take Dolohov down, not only for Ron, but also for the pain he had caused her with the spell he sent during the battle at the Department of Mysteries. Draco would help her, and she was pretty sure that Severus and Rabastan would do, if only to make sure she didn’t get into any danger. She felt a little guilty for dragging them into it, but they didn’t have to come and they were both certainly capable of taking care of themselves.

Severus and Rabastan went into the room where Dumbledore’s portrait was hidden to seek his opinion on what Hermione planned to do. She waited with Draco in silence, sure that Dumbledore, who was always about second chances and forgiveness, would totally disagree with her plans and ensure that both Severus and Rabastan refused to help her. She was ok with that, respecting their decisions, but she also knew that it would make her attempt to bring retribution a lot more difficult - Draco was some help, but he didn’t have the years of experience and expertise that Severus and Rabastan were in possession of.  
She was surprised, then, when she heard what Dumbledore actually had to say. In their haste, neither Severus or Rabastan had remembered to apply silencing charms to the room, not in the habit of doing such a thing when in Severus’ quarters. From the snippets of conversation Hermione caught, Dumbledore appeared to think that Severus and Rabastan should support her decision and while he didn’t condone killing, he said it was important that she make her own decisions.  
Deep down she knew that he was saying that she would have to learn first-hand what it could do to her if she killed someone, a hard lesson indeed, but the other part of her mind refused to listen, clouded, she was reluctant to admit, by her sadness and anger. 

When Severus and Rabastan returned from their conversation with Dumbledore, the former angry and the latter accepting, Hermione knew she would be able to go and find Dolohov without either wizard getting in the way. They offered their help, most reluctantly as Severus made sure to stress, in order to make things safer for her, and a plan began to form. Severus would lure Dolohov out into the forest surrounding Voldemort’s headquarters, an area rarely frequented by death eaters and somewhere close enough to headquarters that they could hurry Hermione back quickly if needed. Hermione would be waiting there, with Draco and Rabastan in the background in case things got dangerous, and Severus would leave Dolohov there with her, wandless of course, so Hermione could speak to him.  
That was all she said out loud that she would do, but they all knew that the unspoken words that followed promised pain for the evil wizard. Severus stalked off and while Hermione knew she should probably feel guilty, such feeling was overwhelmed by her desire to come face to face with Dolohov. Rabastan changed the colour of all their clothing and robes to black, so they could blend into the forest better, and led Hermione and Draco quickly through the maze of corridors and out of the dark building.

The journey was rather frightening, despite being short, with Hermione worrying every step of the way that a death eater would hear them and that Draco and Rabastan’s cover would be blown. But the two wizards were both Slytherins - taught how to move in the shadows practically at birth - and while neither could move with the total grace Severus could, they were more than capable of sneaking themselves, and Hermione, out of Voldemort’s headquarters for a few hours. They arrived at the clearing pre-determined by Severus and Rabastan just as the former was disarming a rather shocked and angry, Dolohov. A quick spell of his own invention, acting like the Full Body Bind, but allowing the victim to speak, and Dolohov was ready for his conversation with a very pissed off Hermione.  
She’d calmed down a little during the ten minute journey from Severus’ quarters to the forest, the silence allowing her to think through things and realise that killing Dolohov might not be the best path to take. However, seeing the wizard in the flesh, with hatred and arrogance in his eyes, just brought her anger back tenfold and she forget any thoughts of mercy in that moment.

She strode forward, vaguely aware that Rabastan and Draco weren’t following, as per the plan, and that Severus had disappeared - he was very good at that, she noted, able to sneak away without a sound. To say Dolohov was shocked to see her was an understatement, his eyes bulged and his mouth contorted into a frown - he had just been attacked by a wizard who was supposed to be on his side and was now faced with a witch completely loyal to the light and who should have been under said wizard’s control.  
He did one of the most predictable things - he started swearing loudly, offensive comments directed at Severus, her and muggleborns in general. She was glad they’d had the foresight to use a soundproofing spell on the small area they were in - she didn’t want to have to silence Dolohov when she wanted … no needed to talk to him, to find out more about Ron’s death.  
While Dolohov looked furious and confused, he didn’t look scared, probably knowing her wand had been destroyed and that even Severus would have found it too risky to get her another. Of course, he was unaware of the extent of her wandless abilities, unknowing that her current state of mind meant that he should be very, very afraid. But to him, she was just a girl, an eighteen year old wandless witch who still bore the scars of his attack at the Department of Mysteries and who would obviously be just as afraid of him now as she was then - how wrong he was. 

Hermione smiled, but it wasn’t the carefree smile she normally showed, but one full of malice and really something that would be more at home on someone like Bellatrix - now that was a scary thought. Dolohov finally seemed to realise just what he was in for, but of course the spell holding him still wouldn’t let him struggle and he could only content himself with throwing more insults at Hermione in an attempt to scare her off. However, Hermione had survived insults from the mouths of Draco and Lucius Malfoy and numerous Slytherins, this one wizard wasn’t going to scare her and all his comments really did was rile her up even more, causing her to temporarily lose just a little more of her rationality.  
“Why did you do it?” she asked quietly, though she wasn’t quite sure whether she’d even get an answer, after all most of these monsters killed for Voldemort or because they enjoyed it.  
He laughed, realising he’d found a weak spot with her, “why did I kill your little blood traitor friend? I killed him because it felt good, because I wanted to and because it helped in My Lord’s road to gaining power from the idiots currently in charge and creating a world free of muggle scum and traitors.”  
He smiled again and Hermione was uncomfortably reminded of the glimpse she’d had of Rodolphus Lestrange once - madness reflected in his eyes and his cruel nature shining out for all to see.

She took the spell off after a few minutes - she didn’t get off on other people’s pain, she wasn’t Bellatrix or Rodolphus. She gave Dolohov a few minutes to recover, because she was just nice like that, before she said just two words to him, “Ron Weasley.”  
Hermione read a lot, everyone knew that, she’d read something from pretty much every genre, including psychology books. She knew that saying a simple word to someone would lead to a rush of memories concerning that word. This meant that when she said Ron’s name, all Dolohov’s recent memories of him - the murder - would come to the forefront of his mind and she could use her expertise in Legilimency to find those memories and take them into her own mind for later perusal.  
Some would ask why she wanted to see the last moments of her best friends, watch his death in minute detail when it would hurt her so much, but she had to know what had happened, who else had been there, if he had suffered, little things she knew Dolohov would refuse to tell her just because he knew it would hurt her that he didn’t. She didn’t see much as his memories flooded her mind, they were entering her head too fast for her to make sense of them and she locked them away in her head, not wanting them distracting her and knowing she would put them in a pensive and watch them carefully later.

Dolohov’s head drooped to the side as she halted the flow of memories, having gained all she needed on Ron’s murder. She new he would be out cold for at least ten minutes, the after-effects of having Legilimency used on you and she planned to finish what she came to do before that time was up. Despite missing much of Ron’s murder during the transfer, she had seen a few things and they had enraged her; Dolohov taunting Ron about her capture and imprisonment, Ron being tortured with the Cruciatus curse before being killed as Harry was pulled back by Remus in a scene strangely reminiscent to that which had taken place when Sirius had fallen into the veil.  
She cut the memories off immediately, she certainly wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be watching them now - the little bits she had seen had already solidified her resolve to kill Dolohov and she knew that if she watched any more she wouldn’t kill him as he lay unconscious, but end up torturing him more for the pain he put Ron through.  
She stepped back and twisted both her hands in a complex motion, pointing them at Dolohov before she changed her mind and whispering two words she had never thought she would say - “Avada Kedavra.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The effect those words had was instantaneous and Hermione found herself unable to stare at anything else but Dolohov’s crumpled body. She was suddenly immensely thankful she had killed him while he was unconscious, she knew watching his face contort would have been way too much for her. She was prepared for the onslaught of guilt she would feel at taking a life, even if it was one as evil as Dolohov, but she had no idea it would be such a tidal wave of emotion. Neither was she prepared for the pain she felt as her soul began to crack from the deed she had done.  
Both Severus and Rabastan had spoken of it, only briefly, for neither wished to recall the dark moments, and she knew it had been such pain and the effect it would have on her psyche that made them so reluctant to let her near Dolohov. She wished she had listened, despite the fact that she was glad Dolohov was dead, she wasn’t quite sure she could handle the aftermath. The pain was a hundred times worse than the Cruciatus and she barely felt Severus wrap his arms around her in an attempt to bring her comfort. 

She could hear his whispers, telling her to try and find her happier emotions, her remorse for the killing and her belief that it was necessary to avenge Ron.  
“You cannot let the dark emotions overwhelm you Hermione,” he told her, “if you do then you will never find your way back to the light.”  
She tried, Merlin knows she tried, bringing up old memories of laughter with her friends, jokes with Rabastan, civilised conversation with Draco and romantic moments with Severus … but it just didn’t seem to be enough. She could see Severus, Rabastan and Draco through the haze that seemed to cover her eyes and she could see the love they had for her in their eyes so it was easier to bring up happy emotions regarding them.  
On the other hand, she had none of her Order friends with her and so she had no tangible proof that they would forgive her for what she had done. Severus seemed to understand what it was he needed, demonstrating once again how in tune they were with each other and how much she needed him. He passed her over to Rabastan for a few minutes as he sent Kingsley an emergency owl with their location. He took her back quickly, stroking her hair gently and acting, for the most part, in a completely un-Severus like way.

He held her for twenty minutes more as she sobbed and screamed - they were making good use of the soundproofing spell - unable to escape the darkness that had begun to penetrate as soon as she said those two cursed words.  
She barely responded when she heard the distant popping sound of apparition, nor when Kingsley’s voice permeated the air, full of panic as he hurriedly asked the wizards around her what was wrong with her and “why the hell is Malfoy junior here?”  
It seemed that Severus had neglected to mention Draco’s defection to the light in his letters and there was about ten minutes of hurried whispers as Rabastan explained Draco’s true loyalties and the events of the day ever since Hermione had heard of Ron’s murder. She didn’t catch much of Kingsley’s responses to Rabastan, distracted as she was by the pain of her soul both breaking and trying to pull itself together at the same time - if this was what it felt like for her, she couldn’t imagine the pain Voldemort would go through if he tried to reconnect the pieces of his fractured soul and could easily see how the pain could kill him.  
She screamed again as a stab of pain hit her and heard Kingsley let off a string of swearwords that she would never expect to come from him, it almost made her want to giggle, if she hadn’t been in such pain. She felt another shift as Severus picked her up gently and laid her onto someone else’s lap. A quick look up saw she was sitting with Kingsley, who was looking down at her with a mixture of sadness and pain.

“Mione,” he whispered, “they told me what’s going on and I’m so sorry about Ron, we were all devastated, Harry especially of course. I don’t know whether to be angry at you for putting yourself in danger this way, or proud for trying to gain justice for Ron. We all love you in the Order, they still miss you terribly and hope for your return every day. It doesn’t matter what you did because we’ve all done things we’re not proud of and this is war. I can’t speak for the others, but I’m sure they’d think the same as me - you did what you thought was best in a terrible situation and I love you regardless of it, as do Severus, Rabastan and Mr Malfoy here, just as I’m sure the others would too. You have to fight out of the darkness Mione, there’s still so much to do and I know you want to be ready, especially when the time comes that you can return home and see everyone. Please come back to us Mione.”  
Hermione wanted to cry so much - cry from the pain she was in, but also in happiness at the fact that, despite what had happened, there were still those who loved her and always would. She felt the burn of pain lessen as her heart lightened and it continued to dull as she allowed the happiness she felt at the devotion of her friends overwhelm her.

Soon the pain ended completely and she no longer felt it physically, though the emotional torment was still there, deep down, and she knew it would likely be there for a long time to come, perhaps even till her death. She took deep breaths as she sat up, rubbing her eyes and taking in a pale Draco, an unsmiling Rabastan, a stoic Kingsley and a worried Severus.  
“Sorry,” she told them, “I know you warned me about the consequences of my actions, but I refused to listen because I was overwhelmed by grief and while I will never really regret that he is dead, I do regret that he died by my hand and I will have to live with that.”  
They all nodded solemnly and Severus pulled her close, hugging her gently when she spontaneously burst into tears again. It wasn’t pain overwhelming her, but her emotions, and all she could choke out were a few words, repeated over and over as she sobbed for about fifteen minutes, “he killed Ron … I killed him.”  
This breakdown lasted less time than the first and gave a lot less distress to the wizards surrounding her - this was a normal, tearful breakdown, not a fight to prevent her soul cracking.  
When she had cried all she could she wiped off the tear tracks, conjured some water to splash her face, straightened her clothes and turned to Dolohov’s body, “now what are we going to do with that.” 

Their faces all contorted into distaste as they looked at Dolohov’s crumpled form until Kingsley spoke, “I’ll say I came across him during one of my Order rounds - we’ve been doing them recently in areas with known Death Eater activity - and that he was injured but tried to attack me, so I attacked back and he ended up being killed.”  
Severus nodded thoughtfully, “that should work, but we’ll need to inflict some injuries on the body so it looks realistic and I’m afraid someone’s going to have to attack you Shacklebolt. I’d suggest you use a glamour, but you’d have to maintain and change it as you’re healed so it's easier to have the real thing.”  
Kingsley didn’t look happy, but he knew it was the only plausible, and fairly simple, story that they could use so he went along with it, stepping to the side with Rabastan, who promised not to go too hard on him, in order to create the injuries. Hermione wasn’t pleased by the fact that Kingsley had to be hurt to make sure that the story worked, but she had heard enough about the harsh reality of war from Severus and Rabastan to bother saying anything and just shot Kingsley a sympathetic glance before walking over to Severus.  
He hugged her close, “I’m glad you’re ok Hermione,” he said simply, and she knew that despite his unconcerned outward appearance, he had been very worried about her. They stood like that while Rabastan and Kingsley were working on the latter’s injuries, just relishing in the silence and the feeling of holding each other. The silence was broken though, by a cackling sound and a little squeak as a tiny rat faced wizard entered the clearing.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione sneered, Draco looked confused and the other three wizards snarled as Peter Pettigrew entered the clearing wearing a smirk. “Isn’t this delightful,” he said with a strangely excited look on his thin face, “Severus, Rabastan and Draco Malfoy, all traitors against the Dark Lord and conspiring with a blood traitor and a mudblood. The Dark Lord will be very interested in this information I‘m sure.”  
Severus sneered down at Pettigrew, “as if you could ever take any of us you little rat, as I recall you always hid behind Potter, Black and Lupin to start with, now you hide behind the robes of your so-called Lord.”  
Pettigrew nodded, “maybe I’m not as magically strong as you, but I can still escape the same way I did years ago, as a rat.”  
Severus, Rabastan and Kingsley all made a grab for him, but there was no need, for his attempts to shift into his ratty animagus form were for naught and he looked up with a petrified look on his face.  
Hermione smirked, “as if I would ever let you escape after the pain you caused my friends, I was researching and found a useful little spell that prevents Animagus transformations for an hour - I spelled you silently while you were having your little altercation with Severus.”

Pettigrew gaped, so did the others for that matter - well it was a rather obscure spell, but she liked to read. While the rat-like wizard was caught off guard, Kingsley hit him with a Full Body Bind - “I’ll take him in with Dolohov and say I found him lurking about - I’m sure Sirius and Remus would just love to interrogate him, but we’ll have to Obliviate everything about him seeing us from his mind, don’t want them finding things out too early and going on some sort of rampage.”  
Hermione nodded, approving Kingsley’s plan, she had no desire to kill this wizard despite what he had done - she didn’t want to shut down again and she knew Sirius and Remus deserved to be the ones to deal with him. The others appeared to agree and it was Severus who Obliviated Pettigrew, having plenty of experience in the area.  
Kingsley left fairly quickly after that with a dead Dolohov and an unconscious Pettigrew, but not before he gave Hermione a hug, reminding her how much the Order loved and missed her. Severus watched their goodbye with only a slight hint of jealousy and she hoped this meant he realised that all her friends were only that, friends, while he was the one she loved romantically.

Hermione returned to Voldemort’s headquarters with Severus, Rabastan and Draco very quickly and quietly, dropping Draco off to his rooms on the way and breathing a sigh of relief when she realised no one had noticed their absence. She felt much better knowing that both Dolohov and Pettigrew were off the streets, but that didn’t alleviate the guilt she felt at killing someone. She also knew she had to view the memories of Ron’s last moments, but she was much too tired and emotionally drained to do that so soon - she’d probably do it after a good night’s sleep, though she somehow doubted she’d be getting much rest after what had happened.  
Rabastan left almost immediately after they arrived at Severus’ quarters, saying he needed some rest and had a few jobs to do, leaving she and Severus alone. He kissed her feverently, with more vigour than usual, and she could guess that he felt the need to reaffirm she was still there after what had happened that day. She didn’t mind at all, kissing Severus was quite probably her favourite activity.  
She wished she could stay like that with him forever, free of all responsibilities, but there were plans to make, memories to watch, guilt to try and relieve inside herself and a Dark Lord to take down. However, that would all wait till tomorrow, right now she was safe in Severus’ arms where nothing could touch her - if only it could be like that all the time.


	15. Hope Guides The Way

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‘Hope is the dream of a soul awake.’  
French Proverb

The first days after Dolohov’s death were incredibly hard for Hermione, as well as for those who had to see her pain. Despite her success in preventing her soul from cracking, the fact that she had killed someone, and not in self-defence, remained in the forefront of her mind and had a profound effect on her. She had nightmares straight through every night for a week afterwards, waking screaming and crying multiple times.  
After Severus had crashed into the room the first time, thinking she was being attacked, she put up silencing charms keyed to her particular magic so even he couldn’t remove them. She wasn’t about to disturb his sleep, though he said he’d rather know when she was upset, because he had to face Voldemort every day and she wasn’t going to let him be anything but totally awake for such meetings, especially if he was going to get his mind probed.  
He looked sceptically at her every morning, knowing that her fresh appearance was the result of glamours rather than a good night’s sleep, but he never said anything, knowing that unless things got really bad there was no point trying to intervene, for she was just as stubborn as he was. However, after about a week the nightmares had begun to disappear and Hermione knew that things were improving - she was under no illusions that they would disappear completely, but knew they would soon be limited to the nights following bad days or situations reminiscent of Dolohov’s death.

Rabastan had been coming down to Severus’ quarters even more often than before, which was saying something considering he was normally down most days. Draco had been popping by a lot as well, though he was beholden to his psycho father and indulgent mother and so found it more difficult to escape to see them. She was under no misapprehension about their reasons for visiting - she knew it was linked to the day she had killed Dolohov and the fact that they wanted to support her as much as possible. She was very grateful to them for helping distract her, she even managed a smile two days after Dolohov’s death and a laugh a three days after that.  
Draco had never killed anyone, the closest he had come was when he’d almost killed Dumbledore and Voldemort had only ever had him torture after that, not yet thinking him brave enough to handle killing. However, he could still relate to Hermione, having come incredibly close to murdering Dumbledore and feeling like he was falling apart as he was forced to take part in activities he didn’t want to be a part of.  
Hermione was surprised he hadn’t been forced into it as a way of proving his loyalty, but Severus told her that Voldemort was so confident he was going to win the war that he didn’t think one boy would make much of a difference and didn’t want to waste time on him. The only reason Draco was still alive was his family’s long service for Voldemort, Severus’ intervention and the fact that Draco had more than the two or three brain cells most Death Eaters appeared to possess.

Hermione got a lot of work done in the days following Dolohov’s death - she used research as a way to escape any dark thoughts that snuck up on her. A letter from Kingsley informed them that all Horcruxes but Nagini had been destroyed - Slytherin’s Locket, the Gaunt Ring, Tom Riddle’s Diary, the Diadem of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff’s Cup. Hermione was quite shocked, but she guessed that Ron’s death had spurred the Order on - Harry especially would be determined to do anything to get rid of the group responsible for his best friend’s death. Kingsley also mentioned how the Order were still stuck on exactly how to kill Voldemort. They had worked out that technically he would be just as susceptible to the killing curse as a normal person once Nagini was destroyed, but they also knew he would likely have something up his sleeve and didn’t know whether Harry sending the killing curse would actually work.  
Severus just sent a quick note back asking Kingsley to try getting the Order to focus on practicing spells and making sure all fighters were up to scratch, while Hermione, Severus, Rabastan and Draco would work on finding out a foolproof method to destroy Voldemort.

In a way, Hermione felt like she had been on a rollercoaster of emotions ever since she had entered Voldemort’s headquarters so many months ago, specifically involving hope, despair and love. When she had first arrived she had chiefly felt despair, but Severus and Rabastan had knocked such feeling down and brought back hope, along with the gradually increasing love she felt for both, familial in one case and romantic in the other. There had been incidents which had knocked down her hope, such as the incidents involving Lucius Malfoy, but she always got over them with help from Severus and her friends.  
She told herself that killing Dolohov was another incident, though more serious than the others, which had knocked her down and heightened her despair - all she needed to do now was find a way to bring back some hope. Love had prevented her having a total breakdown after she cast Avada Kedavra and had definitely set the wheels in motion for bringing her out of the despair and depression such an action caused, but she wanted to regain her hope - despair made her feel useless and she needed to feel strong if she wanted to think they could win the war.  
What she needed to regain hope was a plan - something as solid as possible that would let her feel secure that they had a good shot at kicking Voldemort’s ass once and for all - now all they had to do was work such a plan out.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I honestly don’t get why Potter can’t just go ‘Avada Kedavra’ and be done with it - you said those soul bits are almost all destroyed and when you get the snake then there’s nothing protecting him.”  
“It’s not quite that simple Draco, you know what Vol- sorry the Dark Lord, is like. He’s a sick bastard and he’s probably got some back-up plan because he’s overly paranoid and obsessed with living forever.”  
“I agree with Hermione, we have to make sure we plan for any nasty tricks the Dark Lord may have hidden up his sleeve.”  
“You are so only agreeing with her because she’s your girlfriend Severus.”  
“I think it’s a little more than that Draco, Mia is right and I am most assuredly not kissing her.”  
“I take offence at you calling Hermione my girlfriend.”  
“Hey, thanks so much for that - what am I, chopped liver?”  
“No Hermione, I just meant that you are much more than that - girlfriend seems like such a trite, juvenile title.”  
“Aww Severus, you know you can be very sweet sometimes, I’d never have guessed with the way you acted at Hogwarts.”  
“Ok, can we please drop the mushy crap please, Severus loves Hermione, she loves him and neither Rabastan or I feel anything remotely romantic for her, despite the fact that you, Mione, are totally hot - now can we please move on.”

“Draco, I don’t appreciate you hitting on Hermione even if what you said is true.”  
“I wasn’t hitting on her Severus, I was just expressing an opinion of her looks.”  
“As flattering as all this is, we really should get on with working out a plan.”  
“Mia is right, the Dark Lord is not going to get defeated by us sitting round discussing Severus and Hermione’s love life.”  
“Yes, of course, I’ve been researching and I found an interesting potion that lowers magical defences. Severus will obviously know this, but potions can be much more potent than spells, especially if the brewer is a master like Severus is. This potion doesn’t need to be swallowed, we would just need to throw it on Voldemort and hit some of his bare skin. The Harry can cast the killing curse and hopefully it will all be over.”  
“I’ve never heard of such a potion, rumours of such things, but never a definite set of ingredients and instructions.”  
“Wow Severus, I’ve read something you haven’t, how amazing.”  
“Oh shush Hermione, we all know you’re just as big a bookworm as Severus here - now tell us about this potion, it all sounds a bit too good to be true if you ask me.”  
“It’s very obscure, and I mean obscure since its only written about in one very rare book and mostly reduced to legend. I’m afraid to say it’ll be extremely difficult to make, we’re all going to need to work on getting the ingredients. Here, I copied the ingredients out.”

**summitto obex - purgatio veneficus - effrego pupillus pupilla**  
 **Lowering Barriers - Cleansing Magic - Breaking Wards**

Three Drops Of The Heart Blood Of A Maiden  
Two Ounces Of Unicorn Horn Scrapings  
Five Ounces Of Pure, Melted Gold  
Two Ounces Of Crude Antimony  
Ten Pulverised Blades Of Knotgrass  
One Basilisk Tooth, Finely Ground  
Four Ounces Of Crushed Belladonna  
Six Ashwinder Eggs  
Nine Ounces Of Powdered Moonstone  
One Sopophorous Bean (Should Be Crushed With A Dull-Edged Knife To Release Juices)  
Seven Drops Of Ptolemy  
Two Basilisk Scales, Chopped  
Two Tears Cried Over The Loss Of Something Truly Dear  
One Vial Of Bodily Fluid Belonging To The Potion’s Intended Victim

“This potion is tricky, some of the ingredients are going to be near impossible to find.”  
“Well I can vouch for Heart Blood of a Maiden.”  
“What exactly is it Hermione?”  
“Well Draco, it is basically blood taken from just above the heart of a Maiden - a virgin.”  
“Right - so how do we get that then?”  
“Well, erm … you can take it from me.”  
“You’re a virgin Granger, seriously - I thought for sure that Weasley -”  
“If you would shut up please Draco.”  
“Er, right, sorry Severus … so we have that ingredient, what about the rest?”  
“Some of them will be fairly simple, I have a few right here in my quarters, the more difficult ones will be the Unicorn Horn Scrapings, Ptolemy, the two Basilisk ingredients, the tears and the bodily fluid.”

“Well I don’t know about you, but I’m wondering how the hell we’re supposed to find a Basilisk, let alone get anywhere near its teeth or scales.”  
“Rabastan, do you ever pay attention - everybody knows about the Basilisk that attacked a load of students during my second year - Hermione was one of them for Merlin’s sake.”  
“Yes Draco, that may be the case, but we still have the problem of trying to get to it - if I remember correctly it still lies in the Chamber of Secrets, as it has done since Potter got lucky and managed to kill it - unless any of you speak the Parseltongue we need in order to get into the chamber it isn’t much use.”  
“About that …”  
“Don’t tell me Hermione - you have some plan for us to all sneak into Hogwarts and grab Basilisk ingredients.”  
“Well, I had Harry show me a lot of his memories, some of them being things I missed like when he and Ron went down into the chamber. I studied the Parseltongue Harry used and I think I can remember it. Now all we have to do is get someone to sneak into Hogwarts and grab a tooth and a few scales for us to use.”  
“Yes, because that’s going to be a walk in the park for three fugitives and a girl who is supposed to be locked up here.”  
“Well at least I’m coming up with a bloody idea Draco - anyway, Severus or Rabastan are capable of sneaking in, ever since Dumbledore died the wards haven’t been nearly as strong, I remember Professor McGonagall talking about it with Kingsley at Bill’s wedding.”

Severus looked thoughtful, “you are right Hermione, the Hogwarts wards are best when there is a Headmaster or Headmistress in place to revitalise them. Since Hogwarts is closed, not to mention Minerva is only acting Headmistress, the wards won’t be as strong. The Dark Lord doesn’t really know this, which is why he hasn’t tried to attack the castle, not to mention there’s no one there at the moment so capturing it wouldn’t really do him much good.”  
“We could do it,” mused Rabastan, “though it would certainly take some planning and Mia would have to teach whoever was sneaking in how to say ‘open’ in Parseltongue.”  
“It wouldn’t be too difficult,” Hermione said, “it’s only one word and its rather simple as far as hissing goes. As for sneaking in, I would say Severus would be best since he’s worked at Hogwarts for almost twenty years, but its probably less dangerous for Rabastan to go in, so you’ll have to duke it out between yourselves.”  
“Hermione, I’d feel better if I only had to leave you when I was called,” Severus said, “so perhaps Rabastan would be better for the job, though of course I shall provide him with some of my expertise on the castle.”  
“You could use muggle walkie talkies you know, though you may need to use some spells so they work in the magical environment - it’ll mean Severus could help Rabastan from here in case he comes across a problem.”  
“What are walkie talkies?”  
As Hermione explained the concept of a walkie talkie to Draco, Severus and Rabastan came to the agreement that Hermione would teach Rabastan the necessary Parseltongue to enter the Chamber of Secrets and gain the Basilisk ingredients needed, and that Severus would help with the planning and be available by walkie talkie.

“Right, so we have all the easy ingredients, the Heart Blood and the Basilisk ingredients covered, all that’s left to work out is the Unicorn Horn Scrapings, Ptolemy, tears and the bodily fluid.”  
“It looks like I might have to go part way to Hogwarts too then - as a virgin I’m the only one who can get close enough to a Unicorn to get scrapings from its horn and the forest is the only place I know that Unicorns dwell, at least in Britain.”  
“We can’t risk you going anywhere near Hogwarts right now Hermione, I know of one other Unicorn group in a forest in Yorkshire, I’ll take you there as soon as possible. I can use my Potions connections to get the Ptolemy, though it will take at least a few days.”  
“I guess I can come up with the tears, I haven’t got round to watching … to watching Dolohov’s memories of … of Ron’s death and I can guarantee you that I will shed more than two tears over it.”  
“Right, well you do that whenever you feel ready Hermione, we won’t need them for a few days at least so don’t feel you need to rush watching the memories if you aren’t ready.”  
“Well this is all well and good, but we still have the slight problem of trying to get a vial of bodily fluid belonging to the fucking Dark Lord - how exactly are we planning on accomplishing that little mission?”  
“….”  
“Well crap, that’s just brilliant, isn’t it?”

Getting bodily fluid from Voldemort was by far the worst problem they encountered when trying to get all the ingredients needed for the potion that could help defeat Voldemort. He was paranoid to the extreme and even his Death Eaters were lucky if they got to touch his robe, let alone get close enough to gain a tear or bead of sweat - they needed an entire vial and Hermione couldn’t help but think that such a feat was near impossible. Draco looked disgusted at the idea of getting ‘bodily fluids’ from Voldemort, Rabastan looked a little scared at the idea and Severus’ face was a mask of passivity - just great, they were being loads of help.  
She rolled her eyes, “right, well we can all just have a little think about that particular ingredient while we work on getting the rest, after all we’ll have a few days to get it all together.”  
The three wizards just nodded and Hermione just shook her head exasperatedly, “well someone needs to get two muggle walkie talkies and I’ll research how to get muggle electronics working in a magical environment. I’d suggest Severus because the muggle world is fairly safe for you, no one knows you’re wanted and as a half-blood you won’t make a fool of yourself like Rabastan or Draco might.”  
Severus nodded and left almost immediately, instructing Rabastan to stay to watch her and use the time to fill Dumbledore’s portrait in on their plan. Draco left as he needed to be back with his mother and father for dinner, but promised to think about plans for the bodily fluid, and Hermione was suddenly alone in the sitting room.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Severus felt a little like an errand boy, running around finding different things in the oddest of places at the behest of a petite teenage girl. Of course the things he was getting were to help make a potion to defeat the Dark Lord and the girl sending him on the errands was one he loved more than any other. Still, he hadn’t been into the muggle world properly for over ten years and, on entering a shopping centre to search for walkie talkies, he realised just why he hadn’t.  
The muggle population was much bigger in comparison to the wizarding one and since it was a Saturday the shopping centre was packed full of people, most of whom didn’t care who they knocked into during their rush to buy things. There were so many useless things in muggle shops too, after all did people really need such ugly garden ornaments or useless bits of plastic with no real purpose - and what was with the dozens of different washing-up liquid or toilet paper, for Merlin’s sake couldn’t these muggles just use one sort.  
Wait a moment - toilet paper, that gave him a rather ingenious idea for getting some bodily fluid from the Dark Lord. It wouldn’t be pleasant and there were many ways it could go wrong, but it also couldn’t be traced back to him and was relatively safe to put into practice, he just needed to refine it a little.

Severus manoeuvred himself through the crowds with ease and no one looked twice at him, he had long since perfected the art of dressing like a muggle and his dark clothes meant he drew no attention to himself. So many, especially students, assumed he always wore black to match his personality and mood, but really it was safer for a spy, especially when he was trying to blend in somewhere. The walkie talkies weren’t retrieved as fast as he would have liked, thanks in the most part to annoying sales people trying to sell him useless contraptions he didn’t want.  
It wasn’t a purely muggle thing, he knew that wizarding stores could be just as annoying, but he avoided most shopping, using owl order delivery and only going to actual stores for important things like Potions ingredients - and in those places the owners knew not to annoy customers who paid handsomely for the best ingredients. But he was digressing and he didn’t want to start a mental rant about sales people when there were so many other things he would rather be doing, needed to do for that matter. 

Next, he made a stop to one of the shadier allies off Diagon Alley to get the Potion ingredients he didn’t currently have in stock; Knotgrass, Belladonna and Ashwinder Eggs - they were expensive, but Severus knew they would be of a high quality and, unknown to most of the wizarding world, Albus had left him a vault with plenty of gold for use during the war.  
He also ‘enquired’ about Ptolemy and how willing he would be to pay handsomely to any apothecary with such an ingredient in store. He watched the wizard’s eyes glaze over at the prospect of such a sale and he knew that when he stepped into the building again in a few days the wizard would certainly have the Ptolemy he needed in stock, despite the fact that it was damn tricky to import and on the darker side of legal - money talks, that was one thing he’s learnt from Lucius that had always remained ingrained in his head, and right now he was very glad of such a fact.  
He packed his purchases away in the bags he’d spelled specially for Potions ingredients, it had charms to make it weightless, bottomless and to ensure nothing got broken. He left the store with a nod to the shopkeeper, but almost dropped his bag when he felt his arm burn unmercifully. Damn Dark Lord, always ruining everything, he couldn’t wait till the bastard dead and definitely not coming back.

He apparated back to the Dark Lord’s base, but hurried to his own quarters to drop off the bag of Potions ingredients, ascertain that Rabastan had not been called and could still keep an eye on Hermione, before he went to the Throne Room, as the Dark Lord liked to refer to the main room. Thankfully, the Dark Lord would not mind if it took him a minute or two to arrive, would assume he was researching or ‘dealing’ with Hermione.  
Severus was extremely relieved, he didn’t think he could deal with punishment when he was already under plenty of stress to try and get this supposedly miracle potion done. He bowed as soon as he entered the Dark Lord’s presence, feeling the familiar sensation of his supposed master entering his mind and scanning his thoughts.  
He’s getting sloppy - so intent on looking over what Hermione and I have come up with to destroy Potter that he doesn’t even bother looking for any discrepancies or gaps in my thoughts - that is good though, saves me the trouble of working harder with my Occlumency.  
“I see that you and the mudblood have managed to start a plan to destroy Potter,” said the snakelike wizard with a smirk, “is it not complete yet?”  
Severus shook his head, “I apologise my Lord, the mudblood sometimes takes it into her head to be pedantic and difficult, but she has proven useful and has made several breakthroughs. Since yours and Potter’s wands are brothers, they will not work against each other, so we are developing a spell which, once cast on your wand, will break the bond between the two wands and allow you to obliterate the Potter brat quickly and easily, as your skills far surpass his own.”  
That’s it, information with a nice dose of compliments, though never stooping to the pathetic grovelling Lucius and other Death Eaters sometimes employ.

“I am very pleased with you Severus,” he said before turning to glare at some Death Eaters, including Lucius Malfoy, “at least you are doing your part to help bring my glorious regime to fruitition, unlike some of my other servants, who seem to think their wealth and power, despite diminishing, gives them leave to laze about and do nothing.”  
Severus tuned out for a while as said servants, Malfoy in the lead, fell to their knees and grovelled, saying how they loved their Lord, wanted him to succeed and would give anything to see his vision come true.  
La-dee-da, its nothing we haven’t heard before, broken records are so boring. It’s a cycle; Lucius lazes, the Dark Lord threatens, Lucius repents, grovels and gives more money to the psycho - rinse and repeat.  
“You must tell me when the mudblood’s use has run out,” the Dark Lord told him, “I am still undecided as to what to do with her, perhaps I will let you keep her, or give her to another of my loyal servants - still, the idea of letting her dirty blood run, letting her die in front of Potter, is so very tempting - we shall see.”  
No we won’t you sick fuck - Hermione is my witch and I’m not letting you, or some other perverted Death Eater, anywhere near her.  
He merely nodded and Voldemort dismissed him, wanting to get around to torturing some stupid rookie death eater who’d made a stupid mistake. Severus was glad he’d not been asked for more details on the spell he was supposedly creating for the Dark Lord - it was completely made up after all and they had no real way to show its existence.

Severus hurried back to his quarters to find Hermione and Rabastan having a mild argument - she wanted to look at the pensieve full of Dolohov’s memories of Ron Weasley’s death, but Rabastan wasn’t sure she was emotionally ready to do such a thing. The disagreement reminded Severus that, while the Dark Lord was aware of Dolohov’s death, the Order had managed to keep Pettigrew’s capture a secret - one thing they were better at than the Ministry, who couldn’t keep a secret to save their collective lives - the Dark Lord thought Pettigrew had got cold feet and run off like the rat he was - he’d actually sent Death Eaters to catch the so-called traitor and Severus found it amusing that if Pettigrew ever somehow escaped the Order and ran back to the dark, he’d be running back to his death.  
He wasn’t sure whether to agree with Hermione or Rabastan when it came to their little argument - the protective side of him wanted to shield Hermione from memories that were sure to be hard on her, but the Potion Master in him knew they needed those tears and he also knew that while it would be difficult to watch the memories, it would also help her on the way to healing from Weasley’s death. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, a sure sign of stress, “if Hermione thinks she can handle it then we should let her Rabastan, we’re not her keepers and she is of age after all.”  
He turned to Hermione, “we can’t expect this to be a totally tearless experience, in fact I would be worried if you didn’t cry at all, but can you handle watching these memories without the total breakdown you had after Dolohov’s death?”  
Her face darkened slightly, but it was barely noticeable and Severus was relieved that she was finally starting to get over having killed Dolohov, though of course the guilt would never fully go away.  
“Go ahead and watch the memories Hermione,” he told her, “though I suggest you do it in your bedroom for some privacy.”  
She nodded and walked over to him, kissing him gently before bracing herself, grabbing the pensieve and heading for her room.  
Severus watched her go with a little apprehension, but he sat down opposite Rabastan, “we have to let her be independent and if she wants to watch it we should let her, it’s the only way she’ll heal.”  
Rabastan nodded reluctantly, “I know - now did you get everything you needed when you were out.”  
Severus nodded, “I got the simple ingredients I didn’t have in stock, the muggle walkie talkies and I ensured that the Ptolemy will be ready for collection in a few days.”  
Rabastan nodded and, with a lack of anything else to currently do, they both turned their heads towards Hermione’s closed door and waited for what sort of state she would be in when she came back. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco had left to go to his parents, Severus had gone shopping for ingredients and walkie talkies, leaving only Hermione and Rabastan. She wasn’t stupid, she knew Rabastan was still there mostly to keep an eye on her, but thankfully he didn’t hover, going into another room to update Dumbledore’s portrait on the plan. Hermione could hear snatches of the conversation as she sat in the sitting room - it appeared that Dumbledore approved of the plan, though he was insisting to Rabastan that they should offer Voldemort at least one chance to back down, surrender or feel some remorse.  
Hermione, and Rabastan from what she heard, disagreed strongly with the portrait, on the first two points at least, for Hermione thought Voldemort had far surpassed the limit for mercy and that letting him back down if he was losing was practically an invitation to go off and build a bigger army to come and destroy them later on.  
She guessed asking him to feel remorse wasn’t too bad an idea, after all he should feel remorse for his actions, though she doubted that he did. However, remorse was supposed to fuse all the pieces of soul back together and if they offered Voldemort the chance for remorse then all Horcruxes but perhaps Nagini would be destroyed and the whole exercise would seem a little pointless, especially since Voldemort had to know the effort of remorse would likely kill him. 

She listened to Rabastan and Dumbledore’s conversation only a few minutes before tuning them out, after all she already knew what was going to be said. Instead she turned to the book with the summitto obex - purgatio veneficus - effrego pupillus pupilla potion in - she really didn’t like such a long name, it was annoying to say and while she was perfectly capable of reading Latin, it certainly wasn’t her favourite activity and so she mentally christened it the Summitto Obex Potion - much quicker to say, but still an accurate name. She went over and over the ingredients and preparation instructions to be sure that she hadn’t missed anything the first time - it all seemed fine though and she knew Severus was skilled enough to make such a complex Potion.  
She would have offered to help, but while she had always been the best at Potions in her year, despite Severus’ unfair marking during those years, she had not yet the practice and time to become a Master like Severus and she didn’t want to risk a potion that was so important and would be very difficult to try and make again.

Severus arrived back as she was having a disagreement with Rabastan about watching the pensieve full of Dolohov’s memories. She knew that watching Ron’s last moments would make her distressed - to be honest she’d be a hard hearted bitch if they didn’t. However, she knew she had to watch them at some point, and that they would need the tears she would most certainly cry for the potion. That only gave her a few days, but she knew things could pop up and she wanted to get it out of the way so she was secure in the knowledge that they had their tears. She also knew that watching the memories would probably lead to a few more sleepless nights and she wanted to make sure those were over by the time the final battle arrived - being tired during that time was not a good idea.  
She wasn’t quite sure when the final battle would take place, but she knew it would be soon, they were making the potion in the next few days and it would stop working properly after about two weeks. She had a feeling it would be earlier than that though, they couldn’t hold Voldemort off for much longer and if they wanted to continue the charade of Severus’ loyalty to Voldemort up until the heat of the battle then it had to be soon.  
Severus seemed to agree with her about watching the memories, though she could see he was worried about the effect it might have on her. Bloody hell, she knew it was going to be hard on her, but she needed to do it, needed closure about Ron’s death. She grabbed the pensieve and went into her room for a bit of privacy.  
She could faintly hear Severus and Rabastan talking outside her door, but she didn’t pay much attention to what they were saying, focusing on the vial of memories in front of her. She tipped the silvery liquid into the basin, watching as it swirled round and the occasional face or scene floated to the surface. She took a deep breath and sank her head into the basin, feeling herself drop into the memories.

She was in a field, nothing remarkable about it, no landmarks to let her know exactly where they were. She knew they were in England, the Order didn’t work abroad and while Voldemort occasionally tried recruiting foreign wizards he expected them to reside in Britain and it was more communication for when he ruled Britain and wanted to expand his empire - like the Order were ever going to let that happen.  
It seemed like this was where some of the Death Eaters met some of the Order - she didn’t really know why it was this particular place and the memories weren’t giving any reason - another gap she’d have to get the Order to fill in for her when she finally got to see them again.  
She recognised Dolohov, it was his memory after all, as well as Macnair and four other unknown Death Eaters. It appeared it was the Horcrux team from the Order who was there; Harry, Ron, Sirius and Remus, along with Charlie, who must have tagged along with them that day. It was the midst of the fight and so far no one had been hurt, the spells were still fairly mild and it seemed more like a skirmish.  
However, the fight quickly escalated as the Death Eaters used more dangerous spells and the Order had to retaliate with the same. When Macnair cast the first unforgivable - a Cruciatus that was aimed at Charlie, but thankfully missed - things got very ugly.  
She watched as her friends bled, as they got hit with quick doses of Cruciatus and as they sent back just as much, minus the unforgivable of course. By the time ten minutes had passed two of the unknown Death Eaters, Macnair, Charlie and Remus were out of commission, either unconscious or too wounded to fight.

No one saw Dolohov come at Ron, they didn’t have time to. In the heat of the fight no one heard the words, whispered as they were with malevolent intent, directed at Ron. But they all saw the green light - Harry dived at Ron to try and push him away, but he was a second too late and he landed on the ground with a lifeless corpse. Hermione could only be thankful that it was painless for Ron - at least Dolohov hadn’t tortured him like Bellatrix would likely have done.  
She had to cover her eyes when her friends realised Ron was dead. The remaining Death Eaters had grabbed their unconscious figures and apparated just after Ron had been killed - all except Dolohov who placed a disillusionment charm on himself so he could watch the reactions, sick bastard - and all there was to do was watch as Harry fell apart, weeping over Ron with Charlie right next to him with his own tears, as Sirius and Remus watched with faces more serious than normal - Hermione had only ever seen Harry fall apart like this after Sirius had fallen through the veil and she found it difficult to watch her best friend hurt so badly.  
She had barely noticed the tears that had started to fall as soon as she saw Ron die, but they had now evolved into loud sobs and weeping. She’d known Ron would die, but actually watching it happen was almost as bad as hearing the news for the first time.  
The memories began to fuzz and she knew Rabastan was Apparating away from the field back to Voldemort’s headquarters. She watched numbly as he went straight to his master, bowing low and giving the news of the “dirty blood traitor’s death.”  
It hurt to see the look of delight on Voldemort’s snakelike face and she was pleased when the memories ended and she was expelled from the pensieve.

She sat on her bed, breathing heavily and looking at the Pensieve as if it was the worst thing in the world - and really, at that moment, it was, aside from Voldemort of course. She knew there was no point in bottling up her feelings and she’d had no vial to collect her tears in the pensieve - she wasn’t even sure that it was possible to bring solid objects into the basin of memories. It didn’t matter though, she’d cry plenty now, a ton more than two tears and it would definitely be over the loss of something dear to her - Ron was one of the dearest to her, right up there with Severus and Harry.  
She didn’t bother casting a silencing charm on her room, Severus and Rabastan knew she would be crying and it might alarm them if they heard no sound from her room. She cried for almost an hour and when she finally pulled herself together she had red eyes, tear-stained cheeks, a headache and two vials of tears - just in case. She went to her en-suite bathroom and washed her face, wiping away remnants of the tears until the only physical proof of her weeping was in her slightly red eyes.  
She rummaged round in the bathroom cupboard for one of the Headache Potions Severus had left there in case she ever needed it and downed it quickly, smiling slightly as it began working almost instantly - that was the great thing about potions, they were so much more effective and fast-acting than muggle medicine.

She left the bathroom, walked through the bedroom and to the sitting room, where Rabastan was reading a book upside down in an quick attempt to look busy, while Severus sat there not even bothering to pretend he was doing something. It was rather sweet, that they were both too worried about he to do anything, and she was rather amused by Rabastan trying to look busy. She casually mentioned that his book was upside down and found herself laughing at the blush and sheepish expression that looked so ridiculous on an adult male who was supposed to be all big and badass.  
Severus seemed pleased that she was smiling, having noted the red eyes and obviously heard her crying. She handed him the two vials of tears quickly, not speaking, and he nodded, taking them over to a small cabinet and locking them in with some other bottles she recognised as holding some of the other ingredients they would need for the Summitto Obex Potion. She dropped onto the sofa and leaned into Severus when he sat down next to her, sighing contentedly at the warmth and enjoying the feeling of security she got from being in his arms. 

She leant against Severus as he spoke with Rabastan about their little breaking and entering plan for the Chamber of Secrets, Severus showing him how the walkie talkies worked and explaining all the best secret entrances to Hogwarts. She didn’t listen much, she was rather tired from the emotional barrage of the day and the Headache Potion was making her a little drowsy. She lay there, daydreaming about what life would be like when the war was over - as long as they all survived, but was broken from her reverie by Severus standing up.  
He kissed her on the forehead gently and then headed to the door, “I have to go check something,” he told her and Rabastan, being rather vague, “I should be back soon.”  
Great - now he was being a cryptic bastard and it was very annoying, not to mention he’d been very comfortable to lie against.  
She looked at Rabastan, who just shrugged his shoulders, “I have no idea what he’s doing, but I’m sure he’ll tell us what it is soon enough, trust him Mia.”  
She nodded, of course she trusted Severus, but she was curious and wanted to know what he was up to.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Severus arrived back twenty minutes later with a vial full of some yellowish liquid and a huge smile on his face - the latter was rather strange considering it was Severus, but she was too curious to worry about that and looked eagerly up at him as Rabastan mirrored the same pose.  
He held up the vial, “this happens to be the vial of bodily fluid we need,” he told them with a flourish and a smug smile.  
Hermione gasped in excitement - the ingredient they had thought they would have most trouble with was right in front of them.  
She looked at the liquid for a moment before grimacing, “Severus … is that … it isn’t … urine?”  
He smirked at her expression and nodded, “sorry Hermione, but yes it is - it was really the easiest bodily fluid to get. The Dark Lord doesn’t really perspire, getting his blood would be near impossible and he isn’t likely to start crying. It was hard enough to get this - he doesn’t need to eat or drink as much as others so he rarely goes to the toilet. However, he doesn’t expect anything dangerous in his bathroom, especially since it’s a private one just for him, and there are so few spells that would use urine as a possible ingredient that he isn’t too careful about his bathroom. I used a spell to collect the urine in a vial and here it is.”  
It was really all very ingenious, though rather nauseating, and Hermione was pleased when Severus took the vial away and locked it in the cupboard with the other ingredients.

“I also sent a note to Shacklebolt,” he told them, “asking him to bring the rest of the Order to meet us in neutral territory in the Forest of Dean - obviously they won’t know it's us they’re meeting, I left it up to Shacklebolt to think up an excuse as we have more important things to currently worry about. It’s rather short notice but the meeting is scheduled to take place in an hour so you may want to prepare yourself.”  
Hermione felt a mix of emotions; shock at the thought of seeing the Order so soon, relief and happiness at seeing the people she considered family being the most prominent. She hoped when they got there that no one would judge Kingsley or be angry that he kept their interactions secret, it was a matter of safety after all.  
Severus explained some more about the long awaited ‘reunion’ - they were going to tell the Order everything that had gone on, about the potion and hopefully try to set a date for the battle. According to Rabastan, they were also apparently taking Dumbledore’s portrait with them to help explain and Hermione thought this a good idea, after all everyone had a lot of faith in Dumbledore and his appearance, even in canvas form, was likely to diffuse a lot of tension.

It seemed as if they were leaving to go to the forest all too quickly and Hermione was becoming more nervous by the minute, all she could think about was how when she greeted the Order there would be a gaping hole in her vision where Ron should be and she didn’t want to start crying hysterically in front of everyone - she‘d had enough breakdowns for a while. Severus kissed her gently, Rabastan placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and she smiled up at them, grateful for the support.  
It would be tough meeting her friends for the first time in so long and worried thoughts about being branded a traitor ran through her mind, but she suppressed them quickly, her friends would never do that to her. She took Severus’ hand, squeezing it gently and revelling in the warmth it brought, and they apparated with Rabastan to the forest clearing.

They were a few minutes earlier than scheduled, so Severus and Rabastan took the time to try and calm her down a little, reassuring her that the Order would be so delighted that she was safe that they wouldn’t think to start accusing her of anything. She hoped they were right, she was only just getting her friends back and she didn’t want to lose them. She also hoped they didn’t start trying to jump Severus and Rabastan and take her to ‘safety,’ though she knew it was rather likely. It would take a while for the Order to trust either wizard, even with Dumbledore’s praises, but she hoped the good care they’d taken of her would count for something.  
Severus had sent a note to Draco asking him to join them - better to get everything, including Draco’s loyalties, out of the way, but he’d sent one back saying that while he would come, he might be a little late since his father was around keeping an eye on him. Hermione didn’t want to think about the reaction they would have if Draco appeared in the middle of the reunion, but she couldn’t do anything about it.

Severus started rubbing her shoulder gently when he sensed her impending panic and she felt the worry slip away - he just had that sort of effect on her. He grasped her hand protectively and Rabastan stood next to them, eyes darting around looking for any potential threat (the spy in him coming out).  
Hermione took the time to look up at Severus and smile, just enjoying looking at him and the peace that surrounded them. Peace that was suddenly broken by a collective gasp. She dropped Severus’ hand and whipped round to see Kingsley looking at her with a slightly sheepish look, in front of the large group of people she called family.  
The Order had arrived.


	16. Begone The Darkness From The Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Order, the battle, the end of the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final proper chapter, since the only one left after this is the epilogue. It's my longest at about 12,000 or 13,000 words so I hope you enjoy it.

[](http://s772.beta.photobucket.com/user/keira_63/library/Harry%20Potter%20Fanfic%20Banners)

“Every man dies. Not every man really lives.”   
William Wallace

Hermione took the time to look up at Severus and smile, just enjoying looking at him and the peace that surrounded them. Peace that was suddenly broken by a collective gasp. She dropped Severus’ hand and whipped round to see Kingsley looking at her with a slightly sheepish look, in front of the large group of people she called family. The Order had arrived.

Hermione beamed at her friends, revelling in seeing them all after so long. She turned to Severus, who gave a curt nod, and then she hurtled over to Harry, who seemed torn between laughing, crying or jumping up and down. She enveloped him in a hug and felt tears spring up - happiness that she was finally getting to hug him after so long and sadness because Ron should have been there too.  
She couldn’t stop the tears that started flowing, nor the babble of words flowing out of her mouth that she could barely understand, relief he was ok, despair over Ron, it all came out in a flood of sentences as she clung to Harry like he was her lifesaver.  
“I missed you so much Harry, you and everyone else … Ron, I wish I could have seen him one last time … I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you … can’t believe you’re right in front of me, I’m still not sure this isn’t a dream.”  
Harry hadn’t said anything yet and from the look on his face she guessed he still hadn’t got over the shock of seeing her. She didn’t want to overwhelm Harry, after all it was the first time he’d seen her in months, so she stepped back and took a good look at the Order standing in front of her.

Harry still looked a little shell-shocked, they all did to be honest, Kingsley being the exception of course. She studied their faces for the hint of revulsion or anger she hoped desperately would not be directed towards her. Thankfully, she found nothing but love, affection, happiness, relief and curiosity when they looked at her.  
Their emotions were the opposite when they looked to Rabastan and Severus, but she had expected that, after all they didn’t realise Severus and Rabastan’s true loyalties. She guessed that they thought it was some sort of negotiation, and just hoped they managed to explain the true story before spells started being fired.  
She stood, staring silently at her friends for a few moments until Kingsley cleared his throat and addressed the Order, “as you can see, this is what I brought you all here for, I hope you will agree it is worth it.”  
A flurry of voices followed his statement as everyone in the Order tried to talk over the others and get their opinion known. The most popular belief seemed to be that Severus or another death eater had contacted Kingsley and asked him to bring to Order to negotiate some sort of switch and people were trying to decide whether to be angry Kingsley had brought them into possible danger, happy to see Hermione again, or pleased to get the chance to possibly kick Severus’ ass for killing Dumbledore.

Hermione whistled loudly and everyone stopped talking to look at her with surprise. “Right,” she said loudly, “I think you lot are missing some vital facts here, of course it’s all very complex, but let me give you the basic low-down so no one does anything stupid because they don’t know the truth. One, Severus and Rabastan are not evil, they are spies. Two, Severus killed Dumbledore because he asked him two. Three, neither one have hurt me, and both have helped save me from terrible things. Four, we aren’t here to negotiate, we’re here to work out how to defeat Voldemort and to share the potion we think will accomplish that. Finally, I am totally in love with Severus Snape.”  
Severus raised his eyebrows at her last sentence, but she shrugged and pressed herself closer into his embrace. She wasn’t ashamed of their relationship, the Order would have found out eventually, so why not tell them while there were a million other, more important, things to process, it would probably lessen the damage they tried to do.  
She seemed to be right, many of the Order members were trying to comprehend what she had insisted about Severus and Rabastan being innocent and Hermione’s last sentence hadn’t sunk into many of their brains. She hoped that perhaps they’d put the revelations about her relationship with Severus on the backburner of their mind while they dealt with the other information she had provided, but she soon lucked out when Sirius started shouting loudly enough to catch the attention of everyone in the clearing. 

“Hermione, what the hell are you saying, you can’t be in love with Snivellus. He must have you under the Imperious curse, yes that’s it.”  
Hermione rolled her eyes, “thank you for your concern Sirius, but I’m not under the Imperious curse - and before you tell me that I would say that if I was under the curse, you could just do the Imperious detection spell Dumbledore invented and prove me right.”  
Sirius looked blankly at her for a moment and it was clear he had completely forgotten about that particular spell. Remus stepped forward and waved his wand in a series of complex motions, muttering quietly under his breath, and his wand tip glowed blue, indicating that Hermione was not under the Imperious.  
Satisfied that the issue was cleared up, Hermione began speaking again, her sentences rapid as she tried to get all the information out before someone started attacking Severus or Rabastan. “Dumbledore was dying,” she explained, “the ring was a Horcrux and it cursed him, though he managed to destroy it. He told Severus to kill him to cement his position with Voldemort and allow him to work to bring Voldemort down from the inside.”  
She paused for breath, taking only a brief note of the open mouths before ploughing on, determined to get the condensed version of events out in the open, “Rabastan has been a spy for years, but only Dumbledore and Severus ever knew - the information Severus used to give you, not all of it was his, some of it was from Rabastan too - he’s helped save lives just like Severus has.”

“Hermione, I don’t know exactly how, but they’re influencing you somehow - is it coercion, blackmail, threats? Snape killed Dumbledore, Harry saw it with his own eyes. Rabastan Lestrange is a deranged maniac, you know he was one of the wizards who tortured the Longbottoms until they lost their minds.”  
Hermione almost screamed in frustration, “no, you don’t understand. I’m not under any kind of coercion, I’m telling the truth and I’m going to prove it to you. Who is the one person you would believe, without a doubt, the wizard you always trusted with your secrets and your lives?”  
They all looked at each other and she knew they knew who she was talking about, though they remained quiet. It was Harry who verbalised their answer, “Professor Dumbledore, we would trust his word, we always have.”  
Hermione nodded, glad they were finally getting somewhere, “well what if I told you that Dumbledore could vouch for both Severus and Rabastan, right here, right now?”  
“That isn’t possible Hermione,” said Minerva, “Albus is dead and so the only option would be to speak to his portrait, which has been asleep ever since his death and only awoke once to talk to Harry.”  
Hermione’s grin lit up her face, “that’s what you think, but what you don’t know is that Dumbledore made two portraits, and we have the other one right here with us to help explain.”

The Order looked puzzled, “Hermione, Albus only ever told us about one portrait,” said Minerva, “if there was another then why didn’t he ever mention it.”  
Severus rolled his eyes, “why do you think Minerva, the portrait was meant for me, since the each portrait has the knowledge of both then it was meant as my eye in the Order to ensure that I could help as much as possible and that I had all the information available.”  
“Are we actually supposed to believe that Snivellus - where exactly has this help been then, we haven’t had any anonymous tips since before Albus died.”  
Severus scowled darkly and Hermione interjected before he could start shooting spells, though she couldn’t keep the hint of anger out of her tone, knowing how much Severus had done for them, “where do you think Kingsley’s been getting most of his information?” she asked them, “the hints, the knowledge of raids and attacks - who do you think was partially responsible for giving you Pettigrew?”  
Sirius and Remus turned, wide-eyed, to look at Severus, who remained impassive and shrugged, “it was mostly Hermione, she was the one who froze him in human form long enough for us to subdue him.”  
Remus and Sirius pulled Hermione into warm hugs from her position next to Harry, whispering thanks in her ear and trying not to be too intimidated by the jealous glares Severus was giving them, though Sirius rather enjoyed antagonising him.

Harry looked confused, “well if you were responsible for giving Pettigrew to Kingsley then what about Dolohov. All Kingsley said was that he’d found him dead in an alley.”  
The response was immediate and very noticeable to the Order members; Hermione looked down with tears beginning to build in her eyes, Severus’ expression darkened, Rabastan scowled and Kingsley looked over to Hermione with a worried look on his face.  
“What’s wrong?” asked Ginny, confusion evident on her face, as well as many others, “is there more than we know - why is Hermione upset?”  
Kingsley shook his head at the petite red head and motioned the Order closer, nodding to Rabastan to bring out Dumbledore’s portrait while Severus took Hermione over to the edge of the clearing to try and calm her down. The portrait was brought out and everyone’s attention was diverted from Hermione to the twinkling smile of their deceased leader.  
Minerva scowled, “don’t you start smiling now Albus, not after all the secrets you supposedly kept from us all - tell us, is Rabastan Lestrange really a spy, is Severus still loyal to us and why is poor Hermione so upset?” 

So Dumbledore told them, apologising for the way he had kept everyone but the spies in the dark about his plans, but insisting that it was for the best - they needed to be able to react in a realistic way and he knew that many of them, especially the teenagers, would find that difficult if they knew the truth.  
Surprisingly, it was Harry and not Sirius who brought up the idea that Severus or Rabastan could have hoodwinked Dumbledore’s portrait to say what they wanted him to, but this was quickly disproved by confirmation from all adult Order members that magical portraits were impossible to hoodwink. Harry had scowled at this and Hermione, who was finally stopping to sob, knew that he was annoyed to find that, despite Severus’ surly attitude and dislike of Harry, he really was on the good side.  
Kingsley was being berated rather a lot for his part in the past few months, how he had seen Hermione and never told them anything, but deep down the Order knew that it was much safer that way, and they derived some comfort from knowing that Kingsley always had some information about her, even if they didn’t know it at the time. Nevertheless, plenty of them had some stern words for him about how wise his decision to meet with Severus had been.  
Kingsley knew they were only worried about him, but as he told them, “I knew exactly what I was getting into and Severus sent a letter version of the unbreakable vow so I knew he only wanted to talk. I turned up and Hermione was there with him - not under any spells - so I knew he was serious about helping.”

“You wonder how I trusted them so quickly,” said Kingsley, “especially after everything we thought they had done, but think about how much it would have meant to you to see Hermione, unharmed, right in front of you, when previously you couldn’t even be sure she was alive.”  
Hermione, who had finally recovered, came over quickly and gripped Kingsley’s large hand in her petite one, squeezing gently to reassure him that she was there. Severus didn’t say anything, though she knew he probably wanted to, he knew they were friends and nothing more.  
“How could I not trust the wizards who had kept her safe,” Kingsley continued, “I may not have to like many of their actions, but they did what none of us could at the time and for that I will always be grateful, and so should you all.”  
Hermione watched with baited breath as Harry took a step towards Severus and offered him his hand, “thank you for taking care of Mione when we couldn’t,” he said, shaking the older wizard’s hand. “I don’t particularly like you Snape, and we will be having words at some point about why Hermione insists she’s in love with you. However, I can see that you are on our side and while I don’t have to like it, I accept any help you will give us.”

The rest of the Order followed Harry‘s example, some of them rather reluctantly, while Ginny stood there, hands on hips, in a pose very similar to one of her mother’s more intimidating stances, and demanded some answers.  
“I want to know about Dolohov,” she said, “we all do. Now that I think about it, the whole incident was weird. Kingsley got an owl and left almost immediately in a panic, but it wasn’t a have to hurry to catch a Death Eater sort of worry, it was an oh Merlin one of my friends is deathly injured or about to die kind of thing.”  
She turned to the wizard in question, “then you turn up again about two hours later, slightly baffled, covered in injuries and with both Pettigrew and a dead Dolohov.”  
Everyone winced involuntarily at the sound of the deceased Death Eater’s name - they were nowhere near over Ron’s death and still found it difficult to hear the name of the wizard who killed him.  
Severus snarled, “look Miss Weasley, you do not have to know everything and if Hermione doesn’t want to explain then she bloody well doesn’t have to.”  
Hermione placed a gentle, restraining hand on Severus’ arm and smiled wanly at him, “it’s ok Severus, I can tell them, after all they’re my friends and they deserve to know.”

It was incredibly hard for Hermione to tell them that she had been the one to kill Dolohov, she was getting past it, but the incident was very difficult for her to think of, especially since she was admitting to some of her closest friends that she was essentially a murderer. They didn’t see it that way of course, they insisted that she had done what she thought was right, had done something the rest of them would almost certainly have done in her position. They said that the guilt she felt, over someone as despicable as Dolohov, proved that she was a good person, one of the best.  
Mr and Mrs Weasley hugged her because they knew she’d done what she did for their son, while the Weasley boys, Ginny and Harry piled on top of her in a group hug that got her smiling a little. It was obvious to see how the Order warmed slightly more to Severus and Rabastan when they discovered how hard the two had worked to try and prevent Hermione from losing herself to the darkness that casting Avada Kedavra could cause.  
Dumbledore’s portrait, which everyone appeared to have forgotten in the revelations of the past moments, piped up with a cheerful voice, “well isn’t this all nice, everyone forgiving and getting along. I’m sure with you all working together then Tom and his dark forces won’t stand a chance, especially with that marvellous potion Miss Granger found.”  
Many of them rolled their eyes at Dumbledore’s peppiness and Hermione was reminded of just how similar a magical portrait was to the real thing - Dumbledore had always seemed eternally optimistic. She looked over to the others, whose faces showed they were having similar thoughts, except Remus, who looked confused, “what potion?” 

“What potion is Albus referring to?” asked Remus, “I know you mentioned a secret weapon to help defeat Voldemort, but you haven’t really told us much about it.”  
Hermione blushed, “sorry, I got so caught up in seeing you all again and trying to explain about Severus and Rabastan that I totally forgot about the potion. Dumbledore wasn’t exactly right, I only found the potion - its very obscure you see and I came across it in one of Severus’ old potion journals. He’s the one making it, I wasn’t quite sure enough in my potions ability to do such an important thing myself and Severus is the best. We’ve all been helping to collect the ingredients; me, Severus, Rabastan and … er yeah, and Rabastan.”  
She glanced around and was relieved to see that no one appeared to have noticed her slip, almost mentioning Draco before they’d explained about his switch to the light side. Severus had of course noticed, and she could see the small smirk in the corner of his mouth, but he was trained to notice these things, not to mention he knew her really well. He wouldn’t say anything anyway, he didn’t want the Order knowing about Draco just yet either.  
She somehow sensed that Draco might be more difficult for the Order to warm to than Severus or Rabastan. It seemed strange, considering Severus had killed Dumbledore and Rabastan supposedly took part in the torture of the Longbottoms, but Hermione did think it was true. Severus had been an Order member before and had been branded a traitor by a misunderstanding that was now cleared up - though the Order weren’t pleased that he had killed Dumbledore, they knew he’d done only as instructed by Dumbledore and could forgive him. Realising that Rabastan hadn’t part of the Longbottom’s torture and that he had only done what he had to in his role as a spy meant the Order could tentatively accept him.  
But Draco was different, he and Harry had years of dislike between them, not to mention the fact that the Weasleys and Malfoys just didn’t get along. Maybe she would be proved wrong though … hopefully … unlikely though.

“Anyway,” she said blithely, as if she hadn’t been deep in thought about their possible reactions to Draco, “the potion is obscure and complex, but I believe it's one of the best shots we have at defeating Voldemort. We‘ve already collected many of the ingredients needed and it should be ready in two days. It only has a short shelf life so we‘re hoping to induce the battle in about three days.”  
She passed around sheets of parchment to everyone, “this is a copy of the ingredients, you won’t need to look for anything as we have it all covered, but I just thought you’d like to know what’s in the potion.”  
She watched their faces as each one looked down the list and she knew when she saw the grimaces that they had reached the bits about Basilisk ingredients and bodily fluid - she couldn’t help but grin when she thought about what they would think when they discovered the bodily fluid was Voldemort’s urine.  
Ginny looked up at them with a look of disgust marring her pretty features, “you know what, I’m glad I have nothing to do with making this potion, some of this stuff is gross.”  
“Yeah,” muttered Hermione, “but you should consider yourself lucky that you didn’t have to see the bodily fluid we’ve got to use.” She shuddered and Ginny laughed, “what could be so bad about tears, even sweat isn’t too horrible.”  
Hermione shook her head, “it wasn’t either of those Gin, Voldemort isn’t likely to cry and his reptilian like skin makes it hard for him to sweat - it was urine.”  
Ginny looked like she was about to be sick and she wasn’t alone, “that is just nasty Mione, but I guess that if it helps destroy Voldemort then we should deal with it.”

Ginny was right, and as they talked through the ingredients, they realised that despite Voldemort’s disgusting urine, the awkwardness of a virgin’s blood and the creepiness of the dead Basilisk, it was all necessary and important. Speaking of the Basilisk, Hermione had questioned Severus on why it still remained necessary for them to go all covert with walkie talkies to get the Basilisk ingredients, but he told her that the Order didn’t reside there, only teachers did. While McGonagall would understand what they were up to, others like Flitwick wouldn’t and so it would in fact be simpler to just sneak in.  
There had been a slightly uncomfortable conversation about the Heart Blood of a Maiden, though it was easy to tell that Sirius, Remus and all the Weasley boys, or rather men, were relieved by the fact that Hermione was still a virgin and had not been seduced into bed by Severus. Ginny offered her own blood for if Severus didn’t want to hurt his girlfriend - such a casual term - but Severus said that the Heart Blood of a witch of age (Ginny wasn’t seventeen until August) was stronger and Hermione insisted she didn’t mind.  
Once the ingredients had been explained, the Order naturally wanted to know exactly what the potion did, and when they discovered how it removed magical barriers none of them could stop smiling because they were starting to feel like they had a real chance in the battle.

Harry briefly told her about the destruction of each Horcrux but Nagini, however he refused to go into details as he said the stories were “totally epically awesome Mione, they deserve to be told properly. In fact, if it wasn’t dangerous to talk about Horcruxes because of the threat of a new dark power rising then I would totally get us to write a book about it all.”  
So the Horcrux adventures would have to wait for after the battle, well she could live with that, after all, she had plenty of stories of her own to tell. Remus and Minerva pulled her aside after a few minutes to talk more about the potion, so she explained the properties in depth, and about their belief that it would remove any extra protection Voldemort might have other than his Horcruxes.  
“The Basilisk ingredients are so undiluted and strong that it will make the potion very potent,” she explained, “and the unicorn ingredients and virgin’s Heart Blood represent purity, which should overcome any dark barriers.”  
Her tiny audience nodded, fascinated by the obscure potion. Remus had never been too great at potions (though he’d been great at all his other subjects) which was the reason Severus had needed to make the Wolfsbane potion, and while he wasn’t overly interested in the day-to-day potions, he did find the more complex ones and their uses interesting, even if he would never trust himself to even attempt to make them. 

A few minutes later Hermione, who was now talking quietly with Kingsley, looked up for a moment to see Severus and Sirius engaged in an argument, not something particularly unusual, but not the sort of attitude they needed so close to the final battle.  
She couldn’t quite hear the entire disagreement, but from the few words she caught; “Hermione … better not hurt her … still don’t trust you … Snivellus,“ she guessed Sirius wasn’t quite over his dislike of Severus.  
Well he didn’t have to get over it - yet - he just needed to repress it until the battle was over and they were safe again. Rabastan was looking between the two, but interjected only rarely in defence of Severus.  
Hermione sighed and turned to the three wizards, “Sirius, can you please try and refrain from attacking, maiming or killing Severus or Rabastan - the same for you two regarding any Order members.”  
“I’ll behave if he - no, I don’t even think I can guarantee that for you Mione.”  
“Well I’m not exactly having much fun playing nice with you Black, I prefer not to spend my time with pathetically juvenile wizards like you.”  
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be nice to me,” Sirius said with a pout that Hermione personally thought wouldn’t exactly show Severus that he could be a mature wizard.  
“Actually,” Severus replied with a smirk, “all Hermione said was no attacking or killing - insults are still allowed.”  
They all looked to Hermione, who smiled sheepishly at them all and shrugged, “well I thought it was asking too much to expect the miracle of you getting on completely.”  
That comment set off the laughter and things were lighter once more.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you quite sure you have no more surprising revelations for us Hermione?” asked Minerva McGonagall with a wry smile - she was very pleased with the fact that Severus, whom she had always had a soft spot for despite him being a Slytherin, had been shown to be innocent, “no more reformed Death Eaters to come out of the woodwork?”  
Hermione’s eyes widened slightly and Minerva looked a little worried, her comment having been mostly in jest, “well, now you mention it …”  
However, whatever Hermione was planning to say in order to break the news that Draco was on their side, as delicately and calmly as possible of course, was blown out of the water when they all heard a resounding crack, the telltale sign of apparition, and Draco appeared in the middle of the clearing in all his pureblood glory and a grin on his face, “so Hermione,” he said to his furious friend, “what did I miss?”  
Hermione shook her head in exasperation, Severus rolled his eyes, Rabastan gave a chuckle and Draco smirked - all hell broke loose. 

“The ferret, Hermione, what the hell is he doing here,” shouted Harry in a tone that made her worry that all the progress of the past hour was about to go down the drain over a childish rivalry.  
More comments went whizzing over her head towards Draco, but the cloud of annoyance she felt towards him meant she only caught flashes of the conversation.  
“Malfoy junior, why in Merlin’s name would Mione think we could trust him?”  
“I suppose I should maybe give him the benefit of the doubt, he is my cousin after all.”  
“… after everything he did to them in school she’s suddenly decided to be all friendly with him.”  
“Hermione seems to support him and her judgement has never steered us wrong yet.”  
As they all finally fell silent, Hermione swerved round to glare at Draco, though he could tell she wasn’t being too serious, “DRACO MALFOY YOU ARE LUCKY I DON’T HEX YOU,” she shouted, “honestly,” she told him in a quieter tone, “I told you to make sure Severus, Rabastan or I knew you were coming so we could prepare the Order for your arrival and not cause a scene like this. Of course you couldn’t do that,” she told the blonde, who was starting to look a little shamefaced, “no, you had to go and act like a drama queen with some big flashy entrance.”

Draco pouted like a child and looked at her with pleading eyes - it was strange, he and Sirius really didn’t realise how much they had in common in terms of using their gorgeous silver puppy-dog eyes and childish pouts to get what they wanted.  
She shook her head as Draco attempted to charm her out of her anger, “sorry Draco, I’m much too used to Sirius using those sort of tactics to get what he wants, it isn’t gonna work on me.”  
Draco scowled, “yes well I had some important news so forgive me if I forgot about the plan, anyway I’m important, why haven’t you told them about me yet?”  
“Honestly Draco, get over yourself, we were just about to tell them about you in a nice calm way when you showed up and ruined it all. So now I’ll do the introductions, Draco meet everyone and be nice, everybody meet Draco Malfoy, reformed death eater and spy. Any questions?”  
There were plenty of questions, obviously, most of them roundabout insults to Draco or exclamations of horror that she could actually trust Draco Malfoy.  
“I don’t get it,” said Kingsley as he sat with Hermione, Draco, Severus and Rabastan, watching the Order argue about Draco, “they were quite ready to kill Severus and Rabastan, but they let Hermione and Dumbledore speak up for them and they understood, even if they still didn’t like them. Why won’t they do that for Malfoy?”  
Hermione shook her head and explained her theory, “Severus was perceived as good once and when the evidence against him fell, people could forgive him. With Rabastan, once they realised he hadn’t done a lot of what he was infamous for then they could also begin to trust him. Draco has only just turned to our side and the only word they have that he’s changed is ours - Dumbledore can’t vouch for him like he can for you and that makes it a hell of a lot harder for the Order to trust him, not to mention all the dislike during our school years made Harry incredibly suspicious of him.”

“I’ll talk to Potter then,” said Draco resolutely, looking much more mature than he normally did, “I’ll explain like I did to Hermione and see what he says, maybe it will make him understand why I acted how I did. If not, then once the battle is over I’ll just stay away from any of your Order who don’t like me.”  
Hermione just nodded, a little too surprised at the fact that Draco was willing to be civil to Harry to actually speak. She watched as he walked over to her best friend, turning to the others, “is he really going to do this, I mean Harry isn’t really scary or anything, but he can be a little protective about friends and I’d rather not have Draco turn up to the battle in a body cast, it would kind of throw the whole plan off.”  
Severus placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “calm down Hermione, Draco knows exactly what he’s doing and I doubt Potter would ever do anything too terrible. He watched me kill Albus and the most dangerous spell he shot was Sectumsempra, which I know the healing spell for.”  
Hermione thought Severus was probably right, Harry was a good person and she knew that the only person he would currently consider shooting Avada Kedavra at would be Voldemort, and he’d probably even consider giving him a chance to repent.

Hermione scrutinised the twenty minute conversation between Harry and Draco, but gleaned very little from it; Harry had a serious look on his face and she knew Draco had long since perfected the art of an impassive façade. She thought about asking Severus or Rabastan, as spies, and Slytherins, they had excellent knowledge of body language and silent conversations - they’d probably be able to work out everything the two boys were saying. However, she thought it best to leave well enough alone, perhaps the conversation was meant to be private.  
It took her a few minutes to notice that things were practically silent, everyone was engrossed in Harry and Draco’s quiet conversation, but no one seemed to know quite what they were saying. However, after twenty minutes Draco stuck out a hand and Harry tentatively shook it. Hermione smiled, Harry grinned slightly and Draco’s face relaxed into a calmer look.  
Harry turned to the Order, “you don’t have to like it, heck as long as you don’t start attacking him you don’t even have to be that nice to him, but I believe Draco Malfoy has turned over a new leaf and I think we should accept his help.”

More whispers came from the Order, but Hermione sensed that they were of a more positive tone and she breathed a sigh of relief - Draco always managed to surprise her, making nice with Harry for the good of the Order. She didn’t ask Draco what he’d said to Harry, but she had a feeling it may have been the sort of things he’d told her and she knew it was emotional enough that he wouldn’t want to share it with everyone.  
So she hugged Draco gently, “well done Draco, despite your over dramatic tendencies you’ve still managed to win them over.”  
He nodded with a smirk, “of course I have, “ he told her arrogantly, though she could detect the humour, “I am amazing after all.”  
She laughed and hugged him again, just thankful that no one had been seriously hurt so far - things were going so much better than she had expected.

Now that there was nothing to worry about concerning the Order’s reaction to Draco, nothing major at least, the Order could focus on tying up any loose ends that needed to be addressed. Dumbledore’s portrait was soon put away - there was only so much of his twinkling eyes and talk of lemon drops that they could take - and the conversation turned to the destruction of Nagini.  
It would have to be done by a spell, Severus suggested Sectumsempra and everyone agreed it was probably the most logical choice. Harry and Draco had shuddered a bit, remembering when the former had cast Severus’ spell on the latter. It was really the only choice anyway, the magical properties of Gryffindor’s sword meant it couldn’t be shrunk, summoned or made indivisible and it wasn’t easy to carry a great heavy sword round in battle. Basilisk fangs were also impractical for the same sort of reason and so a spell it was.  
Harry would carry the potion needed to destroy Voldemort, of course, which would be delivered to him at the Burrow by Rabastan; it was too precious to be sent via owl and Severus was reluctant to leave Hermione alone, even for only half an hour.

The goodbyes came about three hours after they had all arrived at the clearing and, for most of them at least, were very emotional. Severus didn’t roll his eyes at her tears, he understood that after Ron’s death she was afraid of losing anyone else. The battle would be in the next few days and they had agreed that Severus would send his Patronus when it was time. The Order wouldn’t be able to reply of course, since Severus would be with Voldemort, but it would get them to the right place on time.  
They were all hoping Hogwarts would be the battleground, it was a place they all knew well, but they couldn’t be sure and knew they would just have to wait and see. As Hermione turned to say goodbye to her friends, she just hoped it wasn’t the last time she would see them.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione was quiet as they returned to Severus’ quarters, not saying a word as Severus quietly took the blood they needed from her, and only humming a melancholy tune quietly as he mixed the potion that would hopefully win them the battle. Rabastan and Draco had disappeared fairly quickly, having to be seen by the Death Eaters to ensure them that they were still around and alleviate any possible suspicions. The next day Severus and Rabastan worked together using the walkie talkies to grab the Basilisk ingredients they needed and the potion really began to come together.  
On the night Severus finished it, Hermione sat curled in his arms, nervously playing with her hair before she spoke, “Severus, I don’t want to die, but I know it could happen on the battlefield. I’d like to experience you … experience you fully … just in case one or both of us doesn’t make it.”  
She was mumbling and she honestly thought she was making a bit of a pig’s ear out of her question - but then again, how exactly does one go about asking the wizard they love to have sex with them. 

However, Severus just seemed to understand her, as he often did. He knew the danger that came with being a spy and she knew being Harry Potter’s best friend was just as bad. He nodded to her and kissed her softly, running his hand through her hair and then trailing it down onto her leg. She moaned into his kiss, especially as he began to get more intense.  
“Are you sure?” he whispered in the silky voice she loved so much, “we don’t have to do this, we don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”  
But she nodded and he kissed her again, lips crashing together. He pushed her back against the couch they were sitting on and she could feel his warmth seeping through clothes into her skin. His long fingers danced across her skin and pulled her top off. She moaned slightly as his colder hands touched the warm, sensitive skin of her breasts and she bucked involuntarily against him. She’d never gone so far with anyone, there hadn’t been many guys to go far with, but the whole thing seemed instinctual, or maybe it was just Severus.  
As the clothes began to disappear and the kisses intensified, Hermione lost herself into the feeling and soon she was entrenched in utter bliss - it was perfect.

Two days, and a lot of lovemaking in spare moments, later, Severus entered his quarters, where Hermione was reading, and nodded at her, his dark eyes more serious than she had seen them for weeks. She knew what it meant and she stood quickly - the battle was about to begin, and the place: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione stood there, head bowed as if cowed by Severus, who was the wizard the Death Eaters saw to be holding her. In reality, they were whispering back and forth, going over the final details of the plan to ensure both Severus and Hermione got back to the light side without being struck down by Voldemort. The evil wizard in question was now facing up to Harry, who stood at the front of the Order.  
It was rather amusing to realise that such a hugely important battle had such few people fighting in it. The light side consisted only of the Order, all of whom Hermione had seen in the clearing, along with Neville and Luna, who had been briefed on the spy status of Severus, Rabastan and Draco. All in all the light consisted only of about twenty witches and wizards, fighting against Voldemort’s forces, which numbered about thirty. It would be one of the smallest battles ever in terms of numbers, yet the effect the outcome would have on wizarding Britain was phenomenal.  
Hermione continued to look down, though she chanced a small glance at her friends, and Voldemort began to speak.

“You are powerless against me Potter, I have magic you will never know and an army ready to cut you and your Order down, not to mention I have your precious mudblood friend and you will have to watch as I slowly drain the life from her. It will be your fault Potter, you brought her into your fight and so her slow death will be on your hands.”  
Hermione would have rolled her eyes at Voldemort’s melodramatic nature, but the whole battle scenario meant it was probably a bit too serious a situation for such a childish display and so she merely settled with an unseen smile as Harry stepped forward, eyes blazing, and smirked at his enemy.  
“Have you ever heard of W.A. Nance,” asked Harry, “of course not, he was a muggle and I know how much you abhor all things muggle, despite the fact that you are a half-blood.”  
Hermione heard a few gasps and smiled a little wider, obviously some of the newer Death Eater recruits had only heard the legends of Voldemort, fact mixed with fiction, and were unaware that he was not a pureblood himself. Harry was not nearly as incompetent as Voldemort and his Death Eaters viewed him, and with just a few words he had managed to sow seeds of discord among Voldemort’s army. Hermione doubted any of them would miraculously turn to the light, but she thought a few might, once the fighting got difficult, abandon ship now Voldemort wasn’t quite so enticing.

Harry began speaking again and she turned to watch him, pride in her eyes at the wizard he had become, though it was tinged with sadness that Ron was not there to stand next to him.  
“W.A. Nance once said that no person can be a great leader unless he takes genuine joy in the successes of those under him. You claim that you will crush the Order, you think your skills as a leader are superior, but everyone knows that its all for you - you are certainly not interested in the success of any of your subordinates, probably too afraid they will somehow overtake you. I doubt you’ve felt genuine joy for years, if ever considering your jaded childhood. In short, you are an incredibly weak leader and while your powers are certainly immense, you don’t have many things that help with success and that is why you will never win this war. Even if we all go down fighting, there will always be those who oppose you and your regime of terror would never be fully secure - you’ve lost Lord Voldemort, and the battle hasn’t even started yet.”  
Hermione felt like applauding, but she knew that, like a full blown smile, it probably wouldn’t be appropriate in the battle situation and so she sent a quick smile to Harry before adopting an emotionless mask.

Voldemort remained undeterred, though Hermione thought she could detect a flash of worry in his features, but it was gone before she could definitely identify it. Voldemort wore a mask, rarely showing his true feelings, and the mask was firmly in place now, ensuring none of his subordinates got it into their heads that he wasn’t 100% certain that the outcome would be positive for his side.  
He must have decided that he’d had enough of Harry’s brave and inspired speeches because he motioned for Severus to bring her forward - it was obviously time for the ‘Kill the mudblood to weaken Potter and secure victory’ plan and though she was a little worried things wouldn’t work out, Hermione was also excited at what Voldemort’s face would look like when he realised that Severus wasn’t on his side. Rabastan and Draco’s defection wouldn’t be revealed until later on, thus giving them an element of surprise, but Severus’ true loyalties were sure to knock Voldemort’s ego back a fair few notches.  
Severus put on a show, dragging her forward with a sneer on his face and a hint of revulsion. All the Order looked appropriately angry and worried, though she doubted some of them were faking it completely in relation to Severus. Voldemort gave a malevolent smirk, clearly believing he had the upper hand, and once Hermione was standing in front of him struggling with her bonds, he raised his wand. 

Hermione wasn’t quite sure what spell he had been planning to use on her, not Avada Kedavra since he wanted to torture her a bit first, but perhaps the Cruciatus curse. If that was the case then she was glad she had escaped such pain, she didn’t care to feel it again. Well whatever it was, she thankfully never had to experience it, for just as Voldemort was about to cast, Severus slid smoothly in front of her, sneering at Voldemort, his black eyes cold as ice.  
Voldemort dropped his wand arm back to his side just in time, a look of incredulous fury on his face, “what are you doing Severus, defending the mudblood. I shall give you one chance to explain, after all you are one of my most loyal, perhaps you have thought of a way to torture the mudblood more, or have you gone soft over one so like the mudblood you professed to love so much.”  
Severus’s eyes narrowed and Hermione detected a hint of emotion in his eyes - she was angry that Voldemort had brought Lily up in front of so many people, especially since only she and Rabastan knew how much Severus had loved her. Voldemort’s design was obviously to throw them off their game and Hermione wasn’t about to let that happen.  
Voldemort opened his mouth to speak again, but he only managed to get the words, “the red head who married to blood traitor,” out before Hermione, whose bonds had been a glamour Severus used to disguise her lack of chains, waved her hand and Voldemort was struck dumb for a moment.  
The Order, most of whom had seemed to recognise the red haired muggleborn Voldemort was referring to as Lily Potter, were staring with a mixture of suspicion and confusion at Severus, and so Hermione just shook her head and mouthed, “I’ll explain after the battle,” to them.

Hermione turned to look at Voldemort, “you shouldn’t speak of things you don’t understand,” she said primly, “and now you never will,” she told him, referring to the spell she had just cast which meant he could no longer speak of Severus and Lily.  
Voldemort wasn’t pleased, anyone could see that, but he was also angry at the fact that she could obviously do advanced magic without a wand, meaning that him taking her wand had been nothing but a waste of time. It was also embarrassing for him personally and Voldemort was one of those people who loathed embarrassment as if it was the most disgusting disease on earth. For Voldemort, the fact that Severus had abandoned ship and helped a mudblood was a huge embarrassment and showed him up in front of the Death Eaters who he ruled mostly by fear.  
Tom Riddle wasn’t stupid, he knew there were many purebloods who felt their heritage would make them a better ruler than he, but who didn’t want to lead the battle and just hoped to get a top position. If he was seen as weak then there could be rebellion and he couldn’t have that - the battle would rage and Hermione knew Voldemort would do his utmost to destroy Severus.  
She was worried, she wouldn’t be Hermione Granger if she wasn’t, but she wasn’t about to verbalise that worry because she knew Severus could handle himself and that he wouldn’t appreciate it if she started going all panicky over Voldemort’s threats.  
Voldemort looked Severus up and down, eying the protective stance he held in front of Hermione and sneering, “I see you have chosen your side Severus, running back to your precious Dumbledore even though he lies decaying in a tomb. Well, you will be destroyed for you traitorous defection and though I regret the loss of your talents, I shall enjoy watching the light leave the eyes of you and your little mudblood girlfriend.”  
He took one step back, motioned to his Death Eaters and spoke the word that would kick of one of the biggest battles in modern wizarding history, “attack!”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The grounds of Hogwarts were vast even when practically the entire school spilled out onto them during sunny days. With only around fifty fighters in the whole battle, there was plenty of room to spread out, but this also meant plenty of spaces to hide in - everyone had to be very conscious of surprise attacks. Voldemort had disappeared almost as soon as he ordered his forces to attack, probably because he’d realised that Severus and Hermione had obviously not been working on a way for him to destroy Harry.  
Riddle was intelligent and would now understand that anything they’d been working on would be a weapon against him, so he would hide behind his forces, hoping that the Order would be decimated before he had to face Harry in the final confrontation. Voldemort was such a fucking coward, always content to let his minions do the dirty work for him while he reaped the rewards. Well that wouldn’t happen for much longer, they would defeat him and his forces and finally make the wizarding world safe again.

The Order split off into small groups as soon as Voldemort cried “attack,” going off in different directions after different death eaters. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Rabastan motioning for two other death eaters to follow him into the edge of the Forbidden forest, after Charlie and Luna. Hermione grinned slightly as she thought about the shock Avery and Mulciber would get when Rabastan turned on them.  
She was distracted as Severus pulled her away from the group, dragging her into a particularly dense part of the Forbidden Forest and looking down at her with serious eyes.  
“I don’t care what happens to me Hermione,” he told her, “… well that’s a lie I suppose, I really want to live for you, but if it comes down to it I want you to promise me that you will save yourself. You have to live Hermione, I can’t lose you like I lost Lily, even if I’m not around to see it. Promise me you’ll live.”  
Hermione sighed, she knew damn well she couldn’t promise him such a thing, heck he knew that she couldn’t - anything could happen in battle and even the best fighters could fall by chance or mistake. But she knew he wanted her to say it anyway, to promise that she would do her best not to die, it was something to calm his nerves, though she knew he’d never admit it.  
So she said the words he wanted to hear and made a vow to herself that she would do all she could to stay true to it, “I promise Severus.”

He nodded, “it’s probably best if we split up, it’ll be hard to concentrate when I’m worrying about you, but I don’t want you a target for all the Death Eaters that are likely to come after me for being a traitor. Make sure you stick with some of the Order and keep an eye on Potter.”  
Hermione nodded and he kissed her passionately before running off in the direction of some Death Eaters - she only hoped it wasn’t the last time she’d see him. But now wasn’t the time to be distracted by such depressing thoughts and so she disillusioned herself and hurried through the trees to the main battlefield. She wondered why more witches and wizards didn’t use disillusionment during battles, it was useful even though it wasn’t foolproof, but she guessed everyone realised the whole fight would be pointless if no one could see anyone else. Nevertheless, disillusionment was useful for her to make sure she got to some of her friends safely, it might even give her a little surprise edge when she attacked some of the Death Eaters.  
She didn’t see anyone as she made her way through the trees, but she heard shouts and screams … tried to believe that none of them belonged to her friends.

She spotted Ginny as she exited the forest and started to run over to her, wondering why the youngest Weasley was alone. Her curiosity turned to horror as she realised Ginny was standing there as still as a statue. As she got closer she noticed tear tracks down Ginny’s face and the fact that her clothes were ripped, torn and bloodstained.  
“Oh Merlin Gin, what happened?” she asked with trepidation, “did one of the Death Eaters attack you?”  
Her best female friend nodded her head slightly and mouthed a name Hermione only just managed to catch - “Lucius Malfoy.”  
Merlin, that bastard was quick to becoming the bane of her existence, he was disgusting, perverted … perverted, oh Merlin she hoped she was wrong.  
Hermione looked at Ginny again, noticing she seemed worse for the wear on her bottom half, “Ginny,” she whispered, “you have to tell me, did he … did he rape you Gin?”  
Ginny nodded and burst into tears, “I’m sorry Hermione, I was with Bill and Fleur but we got separated and he just found me … I tried to stop him, honest, but he was strong and I just couldn’t and I’m so, so sorry Hermione.”  
“Shh Gin,” Hermione whispered sinking to the dirt floor with her friend crying in her arms, “of course it wasn’t your fault, Lucius Malfoy is nothing more than an inferior piece of dirt who has to hurt others to make himself feel powerful.”

All Hermione could think about was that she was going to crucify Malfoy senior as soon as she got her hands on the piece of shit.  
“I wanted to wait for Harry,” Ginny wailed, “I love him so much and we were going to wait until after the war was over and things were safer, I even thought about waiting for marriage because that’s so romantic, but now it doesn’t matter because he’ll never be my first.”  
Hermione stroked Ginny’s beautiful red hair gently, trying to comfort the sobbing girl, “Harry will still be your first Ginny, your first love - what Malfoy did to you, that wasn’t even sex, it was violation, Harry will always be your first, that bastard who touched you will just be a sick monster.”  
She stood up, pulling Ginny with her, “we have to get moving and find somewhere safe for you Ginny, you can’t fight like this and we’re practically sitting ducks here.”  
“You’ve got that right mudblood,” came a voice from the trees, and Bellatrix Lestrange came into their sight.  
Hermione instinctively put herself in front of Ginny and glared at the sadistic witch, “get lost Bellatrix, haven’t you got some pathetic master to grovel to before his ass gets kicked to hell.”  
Bellatrix sneered, “watch your mouth mudblood, or I might just do it for you. I always knew Snape was treacherous scum but for him to abandon my master over you, a mudblood, is just a disgrace. But to find you and Potter’s blood traitor girlfriend is just … perfect. How pleased my master will be when I present him with your lifeless corpses, surely the key to victory over Potter. He will elevate me to the highest level in the new order while you rot in the ground.” 

Hermione just shook her head at Bellatrix’s delusions, which she probably would have found funny if not for the fact that the witch wanted to kill both her and Ginny.  
“I can’t send you for help,” she told Ginny, “it's too dangerous, but you can’t fight in the state you’re in, not to mention that bastard took your wand, so I just want you to stay behind me and keep out of the way of any spell fire - you have to be safe Ginny.”  
Ginny looked petrified and Hermione couldn’t blame her, Bellatrix was one scary bitch and she knew it would be difficult to hold her off until help came, let alone take her down. She didn’t exactly want to though … didn’t want to take Bellatrix down because she believed it was Sirius who had earned that right.  
“Hermione,” whispered Ginny, “how exactly are you supposed to fight her with no wand, I know you have the basics of wandless magic, but is it enough.”  
Hermione grinned, “ah Ginny, but remember I spent months with Severus, who is an expert at wandless magic.”  
“You mean you didn’t spend all your time kissing him?”  
“GINNY! Honestly, it took us ages to realise our feelings and then we fought and then we kissed.”  
“Right, I’m ok with it you know, you and Snape. It’s a little weird but -”  
“Erm Ginny, not to rain on this girly bonding session, but Bellatrix Lestrange is mere feet from us.”  
“Ah, of course, we might want to … ahh crap.” Ginny swore as a red light hurtled past her ear and ducked behind Hermione.  
The brunette just stood straight and glared at Bellatrix, “ok bitch, it’s on.”

“You’re fairly fast,” said Bellatrix, “and rather good for a mudblood, I’ll give you that. I suppose Snape’s company paid off, but that doesn’t mean you’ll win, you may just survive longer.”  
“And that,” Hermione whispered quietly, “is exactly what I’m counting on.”  
They had been trading spells back and forth for about fifteen minutes, yet neither had managed to land anything more harmful than a weak burning spell on the other. They were both certainly trying, Bellatrix doing her best to kill and Hermione to maim, but they were both fairly quick with strong shield charms.  
There had been no attempts at Avada Kedavra - Hermione wasn’t ever throwing that spell out again unless it was an emergency and Bellatrix was more into slow killing. The whole fight had been rather slow until Bellatrix suddenly seemed to gain a whole lot more energy and Hermione realised what game she’d been playing.  
Bellatrix was nothing if not sadistic and she’d instigated fighting involving a fair bit of moving and dodging in order to tire Hermione out before going to the kill - loathe as Hermione was to admit it, such a plan was clever. It was starting to work too, Hermione was a talented spell caster, but her stamina was only slightly above average and being cooped up in Voldemort’s headquarters hadn’t exactly given much opportunity for exercise. She was tired and she knew she couldn’t keep up such a vigorous attack for much longer.  
Soon she was getting tossed here and there as Ginny, thankfully in better shape thanks to Quidditch, tried to dodge random spells. As she picked herself off the floor for the tenth time in as many minutes, Hermione knew she had to do something, especially considering she’d almost been hit with Sectumsempra and was bruised from head to toe.

Bellatrix was suddenly distracted by some sound in the forest and Hermione took the opportunity to pull a sharp rock from the ground and cut her arm, letting herself bleed slightly and mumbling a spell before taking a deep breath and drinking some of her blood down. She grimaced, it was a totally disgusting ritual, but it wasn’t a dark spell and it would give her the energy booster she desperately needed to keep going.  
The effect was almost instantaneous and as Bellatrix turned back, obviously disregarding the noise, she smirked. The fight was even more intense now both participants were practically at peak form and Hermione found herself using more complex spells. Of course as the spells got faster the injuries started to clock up - twice Hermione had to heal a broken bone (right leg and left arm), thankful that she’d listened to Madame Pomfrey’s lectures on minor to medium healing spells.  
Despite the blood spell Hermione still found herself getting tired, the spell boosted recovery time but even that couldn’t make her run on nothing and she knew help had to come soon or both she and Ginny would be finished. She was getting sloppier, wishing for just a minute to have a break, but Bellatrix was relentless, probably sensing her weakness.  
In a moment of blurriness the dark witch shot Avada Kedavra at her, and Hermione watched in slow motion as the green light sped towards her, but she was just too tired to move, her muscles wouldn’t work. She prepared for death, hoping Ginny would have the sense to run while Bellatrix was distracted by her body - she hoped Severus would survive, after all he’d done he deserved it. The light was only inches away when she felt herself being bowled over by a large mass - she was alive!

She heard a scream of rage and assumed it was coming from Bellatrix, obviously over the fact that she was still alive. Safe in the assumption that Bellatrix’s temper tantrum would keep her occupied for at least a few moments, Hermione turned to see her rescuer.  
Sirius Black’s silver eyes looked down at her with worry and she breathed a sigh of relief, “thanks Sirius, you just saved my neck.”  
He shrugged and pulled her back to her feet, while Ginny hugged her, “Mione, I was so worried, she shot the spell and you just froze and I’m just so glad you’re ok. “  
Sirius nodded, “look girls,” he said, taking in their bruised and battered forms, “you better get away from here, back to where the others are, I’ll take care of this,” he said with a meaningful glare at Bellatrix.  
Hermione nodded and hugged Sirius quickly in thanks, “please be careful,” she said, “we can’t lose anyone else.”  
He gave her a small smile and they hurried off, looking back to see Sirius facing off to Bellatrix with a glint in his eye she had only ever seen when he talked about Peter Pettigrew.  
“Be safe Sirius,” she whispered to the wind, before grabbing Ginny’s hand and pulling her to where she heard noises.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

While Hermione and Ginny had been battling for their lives, the rest of the Order had been having their own set of adventures, some more dangerous than others. Rabastan, with the help of Luna and Charlie, had overcome Avery and Mulciber with only one burn, a dozen or so bruises and one broken arm between them - neither Death Eater had seen it coming, but unfortunately one of the newer Death Eater recruits had spotted Rabastan helping the Order and had somehow managed to get the message to every other Death Eater; Voldemort was furious and Rabastan was hunted, but the good outcome was that the death eaters were now about as paranoid as Voldemort, likely to turn on each other over the simplest things. Two of the dimmer ones even managed to knock each other out when one accused the other of being a spy.  
Trust, that was always something the light side had that Voldemort’s minions didn’t, sure there had been issues with Severus, but they were overcome because members of the Order trusted others, they trusted Dumbledore’s word, Hermione’s word, and eventually Severus’ too. The dark side never had that and the slightest crack made them fall, Rabastan saw that as an omen of their collapse and the light’s triumph.

Remus was trying to stick near Harry. Sirius had run off after Remus had told him about Hermione and Ginny’s shouts, which he’d heard with his werewolf senses. Remus would have gone, but he was distracted by the appearance of Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf who had bitten him as a young child. He hadn’t seen the feral wizard since he’d attacked poor Bill on the night Dumbledore died, almost a year ago, but the hatred from years of pain caused by Greyback was still there and Remus was determined not to let the werewolf escape to hurt any others.  
Greyback leered at Luna, who had emerged from the forest a few minutes previously with Charlie, Rabastan having gone after more death eaters, and Remus growled at him, catching his attention.  
“Ah if it isn’t Lupin, the tame werewolf, still not letting lose the monster within are you - you’re missing out, it feels so good to rip the flesh, taste the blood and hear the screams.”  
Remus was disgusted, he hated these sorts of werewolves, the ones who revelled in the blood and gore, who wanted to hurt people. There were plenty of werewolves who didn’t want to be monsters, but it was those like Fenrir Greyback who gave them a bad name, who were the cause of all the anti-werewolf legislation floating about.  
“You aren’t going to hurt any more innocents Greyback,” Remus shouted, “you are going to die and I will be the one to send you to hell.”  
Greyback crouched, so did Remus, and then they both attacked.

Neither Arthur or Molly Weasley were the best fighters, they weren’t young enough to have boundless energy and while they were talented, after all they’d produced some incredibly intelligent children, they weren’t on the same level as Severus, Hermione, Rabastan, Kingsley, Tonks, Sirius, Remus and Harry. They were steering fairly clear of the higher ranking Death Eaters, but they were doing their part in taking down the less talented ones. They preferred it that way really, it meant they could take out some bad guys but also not be in enough danger that they couldn’t keep an eye on their children, or their adopted children (Harry and Hermione).  
It was strange for the Order to watch the normally mild-mannered Arthur and plump Molly fight fiercely against evil and they were very much reminded of how much war could bring out hidden parts of a person.  
Fred and George were entertainers, but they were also fighters and friends, though sometimes it was hard to see it behind the smoke and mirrors of their pranks. Deflection was something they were good at, hiding their talents behind tricks - it helped in the battle, a smoke bomb here and a baby firework there was the perfect distraction so they could take out a few Death Eaters. They lived life on the edge, even in the midst of a battle, and they always stuck together.  
When spells caused huge rocks by the lake to explode, both brothers found themselves buried under the rubble. Bill and Fleur rushed to help, the panic for the twins overtaking the worry they’d felt ever since they lost Ginny in the forest. Both Fred and George were soon dragged out, as Charlie, Neville and Kingsley watched their backs, but it took more than one glance to see if they were ok.

By the time Bill has ascertained that both twins would live, Molly and Arthur had come rushing over all in a panic, and Fleur had to try and calm them.  
“Zey will be fine,” the blonde told her mother-in-law, “Beel, he ‘as checked zem over. Fred will ‘av to go to ze ‘ospital, but George will wake soon.”  
Molly nodded and cradled the boys head’s. George was beginning to stir, but Fred lay still, though they could hear his soft, uneven breathing.  
“Fred has two broken ribs, a fractured arm, bruises and a wicked concussion when he wakes up,” Bill informed their mother, “George seems to have got the best of it and if he wants to stay and fight that will be fine.”  
“Of course I want to stay,” came the weak voice of the now conscious twin, “gotta kick some Death Eater ass,” he told them, wincing as Kingsley sent a loud spell at some Death Eaters trying to get near the injured Fred and his entourage.  
He winced once more as a feminine scream came from his left, “Fred, George, oh Merlin what happened,” came from a worried Ginny as she hurried into their sight with Hermione.  
The group gasped at the sight of the two, with their ripped clothes and blood, but Hermione took charge, “you say Fred needs the hospital, send him with Ginny by portkey to Madame Pomfrey, she’s at her house and expects any of the injured. Don’t ask about Ginny, there’s no time, we’re in a battle people.” 

They all nodded, despite the anxious glances towards Ginny, and the red haired girl was soon holding onto Fred tightly and spinning away to safety via portkey - two less people to worry about, Madame Pomfrey would take care of them. The Weasleys are worried, Hermione wouldn’t expect them not to be, but she hoped it wouldn’t cloud their judgement because they needed all their concentration to get through the battle alive - better witches and wizards have fallen because of carelessness.  
“We have to get back to the fight,” she told them, “Ginny and I saw Remus fighting Greyback on our way over and I think Harry might be on his own, we have to make sure he’s safe, the whole battle rests on his shoulders.”  
They nodded and the small group split off again, Hermione heading with Kingsley in the direction they’d last seen Harry. They picked Remus and Tonks up on the way, the latter covered with a fair few more scratches than before, while the latter was limping slightly and covered in a few fairly nasty gashes.  
They explained that Greyback had started trying to attack Tonks, which had completely set Remus off, causing him to go a little bit wolf psycho and end up killing Greyback. It had been unintentional, Remus was the sort who preferred capture to killing, and no Unforgivables had been used. However, it was an incredibly stupid idea to threaten a werewolf’s mate and Greyback’s attempt to kill Tonks had brought out the more animalistic side of Remus. He would feel guilt later, but Hermione knew Greyback deserved it - he would have been headed for Azkaban anyway.

They found Harry with Luna and Minerva McGonagall, surrounded by five Death Eaters and shooting them all down with spells rather easily. The Death Eaters just didn’t seem to have the brains these days and, by the smell some of them seemed to be radiating, she would swear a few were part troll.  
“Stay with Harry,” she told her friends, “I’ll be back soon but I’m going to see if I can find Severus, Rabastan, Draco and Sirius.”  
The others nodded and she ran off into the forest, knowing that it was where Sirius and Rabastan had been last. She came across Rabastan first, he didn’t have many injuries but he did say that he’d been running for Merlin knows how long because they’d worked out he was a spy and were out for blood. She hugged him close, relieved he was ok, but worried because he had no news of Severus.  
They came across Sirius next, looking very pleased with himself. Bellatrix was dead, he told them, and apparently they’d missed quite a show because she did exactly what Sirius had done before he’d been sent into the veil, laughed arrogantly and then frozen as the spell sped under her arm and hit her straight in the chest. Poetic justice, that was what Hermione thought, though she did feel sorry for Sirius because underneath the vindication he felt, he was also sad that he’d needed to kill, even if it was a witch as evil as Bellatrix.

Sirius and Rabastan didn’t want her wandering off to try and find Severus or Draco, “they can take care of themselves,” they told her, “they wouldn’t want you getting hurt trying to find them.”  
She knew both statements were correct, yet she couldn’t help but worry, especially when, as they walked back through the forest to the main battlefield, the Hogwarts herd of centaurs galloped through and she was somehow separated from her two friends. She couldn’t shout for them, fearful of the possibility that she could alert any death eaters to her whereabouts, so she would have to make her own way back to the Order.  
She moved through the trees as quietly as possible, but paused when she heard voices … Draco and Lucius Malfoy arguing, shouting and screaming. She didn’t want to face Lucius Malfoy again, especially not after she knew what he’d done to Ginny, but she also couldn’t leave Draco alone with his maniac of a father, it was much too dangerous. She entered the clearing where she’d heard the voices and both blonde wizards turned to look at her, each with a very different expression on their faces; Draco looked at her with relief, though a little worry, while Lucius Malfoy glared at her like she was a worm on the ground.

“Well if it isn’t Severus’ mud blood whore,” he said with disdain, ignoring Hermione’s glare and Draco’s slight growl, “I don’t see why Severus abandoned Our Lord for you, not to mention Rabastan Lestrange and my own son.”  
Here he turned a withering glance at his only son, “of course, Draco will be punished for defying our Lord, unless he can prove himself.”  
He gave an evil smile, “if you kill the mudblood then your temporary abandonment can be forgiven Draco, it just takes two simple words.”  
Draco’s eyes widened, but then narrowed and he looked at his father like the man was a piece of dirt, which in Hermione’s mind was true. “I won’t kill Hermione,” he said, emphasising the use of her actual name to antagonise his father further, “I don’t want to follow your stupid Lord any more, all he’s brought is trouble and he has none of the right ideas. I like having real friends, like the idea of a real future without fear or prejudice.”  
Lucius scoffed, “stop talking nonsense Draco, kill the mudblood and this can all be forgotten.”  
But Draco shook his head once more and Lucius growled, “fine then, have it your way,” he said and grabbed Hermione with reflexes so quick that Hermione was surprised, especially considering Malfoy was over forty. 

“Kill the mudblood,” he ordered his son, “or I’ll kill her and then kill you - don’t disappoint me Draco.”  
Hermione’s heart was beating fast, not at what being near death felt like, because she’d felt that so many times it’s almost normal, a hazard of being Harry’s friend. No, she wanted to see what Draco would do, this was the ultimate test for him, and as he raised his wand she was ashamed to say that she thought perhaps he might kill her, after all self-preservation is an incredibly strong trait in humans.  
So when the barrage of spells came from Draco’s wand and hit his father, not her, she felt a rush of emotions; happiness, relief, sadness for Draco having to kill his own father. There was no green in the light show Draco gave, he’d probably seen enough of the killing curse to want to use it anymore, but the slew of spells was strong, powerful and more than enough to kill a wizard who had no time to protect himself.  
Then suddenly, Hermione was standing there staring at Draco, who was breathing hard and looking down at his father’s still body.  
He took her hand and pulled her away quickly, “I have to leave,” he said, and she understood because who would want to look at the parent they killed, even if that parent was trying to kill them.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She and Draco made their way to the sounds of the Order without speaking a word, Hermione knew Draco needed time to process and she wasn’t going to interrupt his healing process. She noticed, when they returned, that they seemed to have missed a fair bit, since what remained of the two sides were now faced off, Harry and Voldemort in the centre.  
Hermione scanned the crowd of light fighters and was relieved to see that everyone but Ginny and Fred, safe with Madame Pomfrey, were there, something she had hoped for but dared not expect. They weren’t uninjured of course, in fact half of them seemed to be leaning on another or on the floor, but they were all alive and that was what mattered.  
She and Draco moved forward, edging closer to the middle, when Voldemort spotted them, “another traitor he spat, “I should never have let you join my ranks, you were never strong enough.”  
Draco snorted, “I was strong enough to defy you and that is what matters, I was strong enough to take out my father when he threatened me and my friend, I think I’m plenty strong.”  
Voldemort snarled at the news that one of his most loyal was dead, but he recovered quickly enough to glare at Harry once more, “it matters not,” he said, though it was obvious to everyone that it really did, “I will still defeat you Harry Potter, because you are an inferior wizard and you shall all bow to me.”  
Hermione wanted to snort with laughter; she looked around to see that only half of Voldemort’s Death Eaters were left, many of them injured, and she saw Nagini by a cluster of trees, her head several feet from her body (Neville’s work, someone had whispered in her ear). Sure, Voldemort had Death Eaters in other countries, even some more in England, not to mention a fair few sympathisers, but they wouldn’t act without a leader and could probably be dealt with after the war. Not to mention, Voldemort still had no idea of their secret weapon - the potion.

“Your Horcruxes are gone,” Harry said, “and your army decimated, I will give you a chance for remorse, but there will be no mercy if you refuse it.”  
Voldemort scoffed, “I have no remorse Potter, you will fall and I will be victorious, draw your wand and prepare to meet your doom.”  
Hermione couldn’t help the slight giggle, though she was glad no one heard it, but Voldemort just sounded so ridiculously like a stereotypical villain. Harry lifted his own wand and pulled out the vial of potion so fast she barely saw it, he wasn’t a seeker for nothing.  
Voldemort was confused as Harry threw a vial of silvery liquid at his face, but winced as it made contact with his skin. Hermione knew it was like Quirrel being unable to touch Harry - the pure ingredients of the potion were reacting negatively with Voldemort due to his evil.  
Harry took his chance, lifted his wand, screamed Avada Kedavra and watched as the green light shot out of his wand and hit Voldemort square on. He fell, lifeless, to the floor with a thud as everyone gave a collective gasp.  
Lord Voldemort was finally dead.


	17. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally all uploaded. I hope you enjoy the epilogue.

[](http://s772.beta.photobucket.com/user/keira_63/library/Harry%20Potter%20Fanfic%20Banners)

“Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.”   
Arthur Miller

 

Three Months After The Final Battle

“Fuck, it’s hot here,” said Sirius, grimacing as he wiped his brow for the fifth time in a minute, “how long do we have to stay in this hell hole.”  
“Stop complaining Black,” Severus snarled, “we’ll stay as long as we need to, until we find Rodolphus Lestrange and his little friends.”  
“Yes but really, why on earth would Death Eaters on the run pick a run-down little town in Africa, why not Mexico, the bad guys always hide in Mexico.”  
“You’ve been watching too many muggle films Sirius, they probably picked this place because its one of the last places they think we’d look, after all Voldemort’s movement never gained spread to Africa so they’d probably be safe where no one knows them.”  
“Do you have to be so clever Mione,” Sirius said, grinning playfully, “you just make us all feel inadequate.”  
The group laughed and Sirius scowled, “I don’t appreciate being mocked by a girl who’s supposed to be one of my best friends and three sneaky Slytherins.”  
Said Slytherins smirked and Hermione had to laugh at the identical expression, present on Severus, Rabastan and Draco’s faces. She knew Sirius wasn’t very pleased at being the only Gryffindor, save Hermione, on their little Death Eater hunt, especially considering the fact that Hermione’s relationship with Severus, not to mention her friendship with Rabastan and Draco, had led to her being hailed as an honorary Slytherin by the three.  
He coped with it fairly well though, and Hermione knew he liked the chance to hunt down Death Eaters since it reminded him of his brief stint as an Auror before his imprisonment in Azkaban, not to mention it gave him plenty of opportunity to annoy Severus, at least while she wasn’t around.  
Nevertheless, she always tried to make sure he knew that she appreciated him coming to help them, even if he did have an annoying habit of turning up at exactly the right moments to prevent her having some ‘alone time’ with Severus.

Hermione returned to the mix of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy she was using to try and predict the next moves of the Death Eaters, while Severus, Rabastan and Draco gathered round piles of parchment, sifting through it and guessing which areas the Death Eaters were most likely to be found in.  
Sirius sat in his chair, rocking it backwards - something Hermione constantly chastised him for - and yawning loudly to convey his boredom. It wasn’t like they didn’t realise he wanted some action, but they weren’t going to justify his silly acts of boredom by talking to him. He wasn’t overly helpful when it came to actually tracking the Death Eaters, being a man of action (shown by his desire to get out of Grimmauld Place during their fifth year) and he tended to get off topic a little by ranting about random Death Eaters.  
Hermione scowled in frustration as she looked at the parchment in front of her, Runes and Arithmancy tended to be fairly accurate, but the desperation of the Death Eaters made their movements erratic and reduced the possibility of finding patterns. Another half hour’s work found her at the same place she had been before, and she was about to give up for the day and try to cool off in a cold bath when Severus came over.  
“We think we’ve found something,” he told her, pointing to the map they had, “there’s pretty much nothing there but we’ve heard about an shack that could be where they’re hiding and we want to check it out before it gets too dark.”  
Hermione nodded, watching as Sirius bounded over with a grin on his face, “time for some action then, I’m so looking forward to kicking some ass, I haven’t had the chance for a fight since Mione banned our duels.”

Hermione rolled her eyes; the tension of the four wizards and one witch staying together in enclosed, cramped and stuffy accommodation had meant dozens of arguments breaking out until someone came up with the idea of duels to relieve the stress. Hermione had thought it was a good idea at first, until of course the duels ended up breaking the few items they had and Hermione found herself ducking for cover as spells whizzed over her head. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it had been Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws fighting together, but adding Slytherins into the mix was just downright dangerous.  
They were bad enough on their own, with sneaky tactics and a tendency to cheat, but adding Sirius, who was determined to best every Slytherin he came across, not to mention desperate to cause as many injuries as possible to Severus, just worsened the entire situation. Hermione knew none of them would want to really hurt each other, though she couldn’t be quite sure when it came to Severus and Sirius, but she just couldn’t work well with the noise and mess that the duels called and so she had promptly called an end to them.  
Thankfully her threats of disembowelment had worked (probably because they realised she was perfectly capable of carrying out her threats) and the arguments were at a minimum. However, the heat and exhaustion often got to them and Hermione was just thankful none of the Weasleys had come, the difference between their mother’s excellent cooking and the tripe the group had to deal with in Africa would probably have driven them insane. 

Rabastan and Draco came up behind the three of them, bags in their hands and smirks on their faces.  
“Time to break out the camo-gear then is it?” asked Rabastan, “I love all this muggle camouflage, it's so un-wizard like. I think we should get Kingsley to introduce some of these James Bond films into the Auror programme, they might actually be useful.”  
Hermione laughed, “the real muggle spy agencies aren’t like James Bond at all, but if we added magic into the equation then everything they had would all be possible. It might do the Aurors some good, though I reckon all they really need is to learn the value of subtlety.”  
Severus nodded in agreement, subtlety being a quality Slytherins prized highly, while Sirius had an indignant look plastered all over his face. Hermione shook her head, some people would never be able to let go of Gryffindor brashness, Sirius tended to be as subtle as a screaming baby in a quiet room.  
She wouldn’t hold it against him of course, it was a Gryffindor trait and every house had their weaknesses; Ravenclaws were often too pompous and self-important, Hufflepuffs tended to let themselves get walked all over and Slytherins had a habit of exhibiting bad behaviour that gained their house its infamous reputation.  
No one was perfect, Hermione knew that, but she reckoned that the extended period of time she had spent with Slytherins in Voldemort’s headquarters had made her less tolerable to Gryffindor rashness. 

They piled on their gear and as Hermione got ready she felt the adrenaline build, as it always did before they raided a possible Death Eater hideout. It had never really been like that during the war, but she supposed all the fear and panic had suppressed any excitement she might have found in the fight. With Voldemort, and many of the other high threats, now dead she could relax just a little. What they did would always be dangerous - after all they were practically government-sanctioned mercenaries, though they never killed if they could help it - but with the high threat removed and the fact that her friends would always watch her back, Hermione knew they had the upper hand.  
The war, especially Ron’s death, had taught her that life could be fleeting, and so she intended to enjoy it while she could. Make no mistake, she had no desire to die, especially not when she’d found Severus, but she wasn’t about to sit around in a desk job when she could be catching the bad guys.  
Molly hadn’t been happy when Hermione had announced her intention of going gallivanting off into the wilderness to hunt death eaters with three Slytherins and the Casanova that was Sirius Black, but Hermione wasn’t easily swayed and Molly soon had to accept the inevitable.

The group of five were soon on their way to the suspected hideout of Rodolphus and his friends, choosing to head into the area on a couple of motorbikes rather than the more conspicuous modes of transportation like brooms and apparition. Rabastan had told them how paranoid and suspicious his brother could get, exasperated by years in Azkaban, and so they thought there would probably be wards detecting magical activity. If they wanted to stay undetected and get close enough to attack then they’d have to hold off on using magic for as long as possible.  
It was strange, seeing Severus on a bike. Sirius, Rabastan and Draco pulled off the bad boy with a bike aura with ease, but Severus was different. Still, she couldn’t deny that she liked sitting behind him, with her arms wrapped round his waist and the bike’s powerful engine roaring between her legs.  
Severus surprised her by driving the bike like a pro, better than Rabastan and Draco, nearly as good as Sirius. She knew he’d at least be familiar with it, after all he was half-blood, but she’d never expected him to be so good - he just kept on surprising her.

By the time they reached their destination, Hermione was a little hot and bothered from the close proximity to Severus, something Sirius must have picked up on, for he gave her a teasing wink as they moved up towards the shack, disillusionment charms in place. Hermione wrinkled her nose as they peered in through the windows, able to smell the stench of dust and death from outside.  
The boys had been right, Rodolphus Lestrange was inside the shack with another three wizards, while a body (which looked like it had been there for a few days) lay in a corner. She guessed it had been too risky for them to dump the body, it must have been a damn good reason because it stank like hell - she could only hope it wasn’t an innocent civilian who had been caught up in the wizarding fights.  
Thankfully, Severus whispered to her a moment later, explaining that they had recognised the wizard as one of the lower level Death Eaters. Hermione was sorry he had died, she believed that those who weren’t in too deep could be rehabilitated, but in a choice between a death eater and an innocent, she would always save the innocent.  
She sighed as she saw Rabastan glaring through the window - probably didn’t realise that no matter how much you might wish it, glares couldn’t kill. She knew he had a lot of issues going on with his older brother, but she didn’t want him to do anything rash. She looked to Severus and he nodded, letting her know he understood her worries, and sliding over to his best friend. 

They talked quietly in low voices for a few minutes, Rabastan nodding his head occasionally despite the slightly angry look on his face. A few minutes later Severus was signalling to them using the hand code they’d come up with when they first started hunting death eaters and they stormed the building. Hermione had been the one with the sense to put anti-apparition barriers up so none of the fugitives could escape, but it didn’t stop them putting up one hell of a fight.  
By the time the four dark wizards had been subdued and the body thrown out of the shack (the smell was really getting to them and bodies were one thing that couldn’t just be vanished) they were all injured in some way. Hermione was cradling a sprained wrist, Rabastan a broken nose, some of Severus’ fingers were broken, Sirius’ ankle was sprained and Draco had concussion, while they were also all covered in cuts and bruises. All of their enemies were unconscious, which was probably a good thing because Rabastan had been close to killing Rodolphus after he’d made some rather crude remarks about Hermione during the fight.  
They were all exhausted, the skirmish having been both physically and emotionally taxing on them all. Hermione really couldn’t wait for the Ministry officials to arrive so they could finally take a portkey back to England, she had missed her home so much.

It was hard to believe that this was the end of their three month mercenary mission, that all the known Death Eaters who had escaped from the battle had been caught. It had been an action-packed whirlwind, full of excitement, sadness, danger and adrenaline. However, she was ready to go home now, wanted to try and find some of that normalcy someone like Harry had craved for so many years.  
She was worried about the fanatics out in the world, those who had never been identified as Death Eaters, or even as Voldemort’s supporters, but who were dangerous all the same. Severus had told her that he worried too, but that it just wasn’t their problem any more. They had done their part, acting on behalf of the Order of the Phoenix to remove any immediate dark threats and make wizarding Britain, the whole wizarding world really, a much safer place. They had done their duty and they deserved to go home now.  
So they would return and Hermione hoped they would be able to avoid all the pomp and ceremony, though she privately thought that Draco was one of the kind who relished such attention. She just wished to be happy with Severus, and hopefully fate would be kind and she would get her wish.

Hours later, as they sat waiting for the portkey connection that would return them to Britain, Hermione remembered the aftermath of the battle and her decision to join the team that was to take down the remaining Death Eaters.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once Voldemort was dead the remaining Death Eaters decided to show that they did actually possess some semblance of a brain and tried to run for it. Some of them managed it, the clever ones at least, and Hermione knew that there were now a few dangerous death eaters out in the world, Rodolphus Lestrange for one. Rabastan had been most angry that he hadn’t managed to get his brother, he knew first hand how cruel the wizard could be and he didn’t want him loose in the world, even if he would certainly have to hide for a while. A fair few other Death Eaters got away too, though no one as high profile as Rodolphus, most of the hard-core death eaters had been killed in the battle and many of the rest taken prisoner.   
The Ministry had arrived late as per usual, about ten minutes after Voldemort’s death, and were being brought up to speed by Kingsley, who was assisted by Minerva McGonagall and Dumbledore’s very talkative portrait. Obviously the Aurors had wanted to arrest Severus, Rabastan and Draco on sight, but since the entire Order had glared and informed them that had they actually been at the battle they would have seen that the three wizards were spies for the light side. The Aurors had taken a step back, and after being informed by Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Defeat-Voldemort, that the three wizards were indeed good, they had agreed to let them go free.

There would be trials of course, democracy could not flourish without showing that things were being done the proper way, but everyone knew the trials for the three spies were mere formalities. There was overwhelming evidence of their loyalty to the light, mostly in the form of Pensieves with memories collected from Hermione and the rest of the Order, along with the discovery of hidden memories Dumbledore had left behind for such use. The trials for the Death Eaters who had been captured were also quick, though for a completely different reason - the evidence was overwhelming against them in this case, after all they had been seen fighting for Voldemort by over a dozen witnesses, reliable witnesses which included Harry.  
Of course, if it had been the old Ministry then there would have undoubtedly been delays and unpleasant interrogations, but Kingsley had been named temporary Minister for Magic and Hermione was confident he would win the support needed when it came to vote in the next actual Minister. Kingsley was excellent Minister material, he had the support of the Aurors and he knew how politics worked, but he was also fair, just and not to be swayed by the bribes and corruption rife in the previous Ministry.  
All in all, the reshuffling of the Ministry was quick and effective, with many Order members gaining high positions as Kingsley sought to appoint only those free of corruption.

The aftermath isn’t all smooth sailing though, how could it be when Ginny was still struggling to recover from the horrific experience of being raped, while many of the Order are nursing injuries that could take weeks to heal, even with magic. On top of this there was the small issue of the rogue Death Eaters still scattered around England and the rest of the world. Kingsley wanted to put together a small, powerful team of fighters to go and capture these Death Eaters and make things safer. If he hadn’t been Minister then Kingsley would have wanted to go on such a mission, as an Auror it was the sort of assignment he craved, but he had a job to do at home, he had to sort the Ministry out and he was really the best one for the job. Still, he took a lot of interest in the team, handpicking each one from the Order.   
Severus Snape and Rabastan Lestrange insisted on going, their years of being spies meant they had knowledge on the Death Eaters and were excellent fighters. Not to mention they were determined to rid the world of the remaining Death Eaters.   
Hermione wouldn’t hear of Severus going without her, she wasn’t to be parted with him, not so soon after the war, and Kingsley agreed to her going, knowing she was an excellent fighter and that she and Severus would work well together.   
Draco had been unsure about whether he wanted to go, after all with his father’s death he was now head of the Malfoy family and with that came many responsibilities. However, Kingsley assured him he could afford a few months before such work had to begin and so he decided to accompany them on the assignment, if only for a while.   
The final member of their team was Sirius Black, who as a reinstated Auror gave the whole thing some semblance of legality, but whose real reason for choosing to go was because he couldn’t bear the thought of Hermione travelling with three Slytherin spies all on her own, especially when one of them was Severus Snape.

Severus wasn’t exactly pleased about Sirius accompanying them on the mission, but it made Hermione happy to spend some time with a friend she’d barely been able to see since he came back from the veil. Hermione knew the reason Sirius was going with them and while his over protectiveness could be a little annoying, he was only acting in her best interests and she loved him for it.  
Of course she knew it would be difficult when Sirius realised that she’d had sex - though she thought of it as ‘making love’ - with Severus, because she did not want to be distracted during the entire mission because the two of them were trying to kill each other. Sirius had tried to persuade some more of the Order members to go, but they all had reasons not to.  
Tonks had been fairly badly injured in the battle; she was unconscious for three days and would need to remain in St Mungo’s for another two weeks before being released for at least a month of bed rest - Hermione remembered how poor Tonks had been stuck in St Mungo’s after the battle at the Department of Mysteries and sighed, poor witch always managed to end up injured. Remus wouldn’t leave his wife, there was no question, his werewolf instincts kicked into play and he was barely tolerating the medi-witches and wizards going near her.  
Harry had seen enough fighting and couldn’t bear to be involved in any more, he was also helping Ginny deal with her horrible experience and didn’t want to halt her progress. Bill might have thought about accompanying them, his sense of adventure prominent, but all the Weasleys had opted to stay at the Burrow, helping each other through the difficult times Ron’s death caused.

Hermione had found it most amusing when Dumbledore’s second portrait, the one Severus had kept, had asked to join them on their search for Death Eaters. Apparently Dumbledore wanted to keep an eye on things, make sure that Severus and Sirius didn’t kill each other most likely, but Severus was emphatically against the idea for numerous reasons he listed in great detail. Hermione knew that Dumbledore, even in portrait form, had a habit of driving Severus up the wall with his eternal optimism, penchant for muggle sweets and constant meddling, but in the end she found herself slipping the portrait into her luggage and hoping Severus wouldn’t kill her for it.  
It was all a favour for Minerva really; the poor woman, instated as Hogwarts Headmistress, had endured both of Dumbledore’s portraits on her office wall for just three days before she had practically begged Hermione to take one of them with her. Apparently the two portraits had no problem with the fact that they were of the same wizard and spent most of the day debating a series of topics which drove poor Minerva quite insane. Hermione had taken pity on her favourite teacher and decided to take one of the portraits with her, though she was certainly not above conjuring a blindfold and gag for him if he started to get too annoying.

The group was going to be leaving as soon as possible, despite the fact that the war had only been over two weeks. Severus had suggested they go as quickly as possible so that the Death Eaters got as little head start as possible. The longer they delayed the trip, the further underground these Death Eaters could go. But Hermione wasn’t thinking about that right now, she was preoccupied with being back in her parent’s house after so long. In the heat of the battle and its aftermath, it was easy to forget that Hermione had lost both her parents on the same terrible day that Ron had been murdered.   
Though she wasn’t totally proud to admit it, the death of her parents had taken a back seat to Ron’s death and the war, but she couldn’t help the fact that she didn’t feel as guilty as she should at that fact. After so many years of a relationship with her parents that wasn’t particularly close or warm, her friends were more dear to her than them and while their deaths angered and hurt her, it was not nearly as difficult when compared with the pain she had felt when she’d heard of Ron’s death. The Order had dealt with the formalities involving their deaths, which were down as a burglary gone wrong, but being in the house on her own was still a little creepy.   
She’d thought about asking someone to come with her to pack, after all it wasn’t just for the trip, but also the things she wanted to keep from the house, but she didn’t want to be a burden, nor did she want to admit that she wasn’t as strong as many of them thought. She was always supposed to be the one who stopped her friends doing stupid things, the clever one who came up with solutions - few people had seen her truly vulnerable.

So she packed away her boxes alone, choosing to leave many of her parents’ things behind. She took the books, she couldn’t bear them going to waste, but most of the furniture was left and practically everything belonging to her parents was packed away to be sent either to rubbish or charity. Some might call her heartless, but the truth was that she wasn’t particularly sentimental when it came to her parents, they hadn’t been there for much of her childhood and there weren’t the piles of memories and photos many families had.   
She took a couple of pictures of each of them, and the few family portraits they’d had together, her mother’s wedding dress and a few trinkets - that was all she really needed. She sank to the floor as she looked through the photographs, finding herself crying as she flicked through them. She had no idea where the tears were coming from, until she realised that perhaps she wasn’t just crying for her parents, but for the loss of her muggle life.   
There wasn’t really anything tying her to the muggle world any longer, her long periods at Hogwarts meant she wasn’t close to any of her family, and she cried for the fact that she was leaving a part of herself behind as she entered the wizarding world full time. She didn’t know how long she sat there before Severus arrived, an uncharacteristically soft look on his pale face. He gathered her up in his arms and just sat with her, stroking her hair gently as she cried. He knew instinctively what was wrong, something she loved so much about him, and she sat and cried for hours, until there were no tears left at all.

One week later she left with Severus, Sirius, Rabastan and Draco on their mission to find the Death Eaters. Through countless fights and skirmishes, numerous bruises and injuries, she felt herself slowly detach from the muggle world. But really, she thought, she was getting the better end of the deal - she was getting Severus and her friends.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the years that passed, Hermione watched with happiness as Harry and Ginny were blessed with three beautiful children; James, Albus and Lily, happy little souls to whom Hermione was a most beloved aunt and to whom even Severus took a shine.  
She saw as the Weasley brood grew and grew until there were enough grandchildren to satisfy even Mrs Weasley's maternal desires, though there was always a story about Ron to be told, always making sure the children never forgot their uncle, who had died to help end the war.  
Draco had met his match in a Slytherin two years younger than himself: Astoria Greengrass, sister of their year mate Daphne. Draco had pursued her, a first for him since he usually had girls hanging off him, and they had married four years after the Final Battle. Hermione rather liked Astoria, she wasn’t cold like many Slytherins, and she had a wicked sense of humour. This was coupled with the all important quality of being able to put Draco firmly in his place (their first serious argument had resulted in Draco walking around with hot pink hair for a week). They had two children, Scorpius and Aurelia, never-ending joys to their grandmother Narcissa, who had so desperately wanted more children after Draco, though she was never blessed with another.  
Remus and Tonks had Teddy, Adrienne and Beth in fairly quick succession, the children’s often rambunctious personalities (inherited from their mother of course) keeping their parents busy at all times.

Rabastan, Sirius and Kingsley remained bachelors, despite numerous offers from very willing witches. They formed a fairly close friendship, being the only three single wizards in the Order, and that friendship persevered, even through the indignation the other two felt when it was Kingsley who was named as godfather to Hermione and Severus’s first child. Hermione had given birth to Adhara Elizabeth Snape at a time when most of her friends were having second or third child. In the wizarding world this didn’t matter so much, they lived to more advanced ages than muggles and so it wasn’t uncommon for girls to hold off having children.  
She hadn’t had much time for children beforehand anyway; once their little mission finding and neutralising Death Eaters was over, Hermione had gone into business with Severus, the pair of them operating their own freelance Potions business. It was small, but incredibly successful with select clientele. By the time they had a routine steady enough to introduce children, Hermione was thirty and an honorary aunt many times over.  
Rabastan and Sirius had got their chance to be role models when they were named godfathers of Hermione and Severus’ other two children. Rabastan was brilliant with Nicholas, though Hermione did worry what sort of influence the Slytherin was having on her only son, while Rose adored Sirius and loved showing her handsome godfather off to all her friends.

Life certainly wasn’t perfect for any of them, but to be honest perfect only existed in fairytales and Hermione would much rather have the flawed, but brilliant, life she had than some cheesy movie. It was ok when someone started crying about Ron or when Severus or Rabastan woke up screaming from a nightmare because they all knew that the past was a huge part of them, shaping them into who they now were.  
It had hurt Ginny terribly when she’d heard that the injuries inflicted when Lucius Malfoy had raped her meant there was a high chance she would never have children, but it had increased the joy so much when she’d gone on to defy the medi-wizards and have three children with few complications.  
For many of the younger members of the Order there were numerous break-ups and make-ups before they found their special someone, and none of the households were devoid of mischief. It didn’t matter how often they all got called to the school by Headmistress McGonagall because Sirius had blown this up, James had set this prank, Adhara had punched this boy or Scorpius had been caught out of hours with this girl, because their parents had done worse things and children would be children.  
In the end those who remained from the war lived fulfilling lives, despite potion explosions because the baby food fell in the wolfsbane and near misses when Lily almost fell off her broom at thirty feet. All Hermione knew was that her life was almost perfect, and she didn’t think she’d ever have it any other way.


End file.
